


give into the night

by ellfie, NocturnalWolfe



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Abuse of italics, Bottom Jason Todd, Desk Sex, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Roof Sex, Rough Sex, Top Bruce Wayne, and jason doesn't help, because this is bruce we're talking about, dick tries to help and mostly succeeds, dubcon, except not adapted?, implied self destructive behavior, in the sense that bruce knows he shouldn't want it but woops he wants it, jason actually makes it way worse, jason has bruce wrapped around his finger, just not enough to kill joker unfortunately
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-07-18 12:54:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16118906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellfie/pseuds/ellfie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NocturnalWolfe/pseuds/NocturnalWolfe
Summary: A broken sound escaped Bruce’s lips into the kiss, but he didn't stop. He cradled Jason's bad wrist to his chest, held the back of his head. Jason tasted like blood and gunpowder and ash.And if this is what it took to get him home, Bruce would give it to him.-A compiled RP taking place directly after the events of Under the Red Hood.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set DIRECTLY after the events of Under the Red Hood, except instead of falling into a pile of rubble, Batman pulls Red Hood to the safety of another rooftop before the explosion. So... obviously UtRH spoilers and it's probably a good idea to just watch that ending fight and scene again as a refresher. If you haven't seen the movie, you can still read this, especially as you should be able to find the ending clips on youtube easily.
> 
> This is BruJay with a lot of Bruce feeling like shit for wanting to/actively fucking Jason, and a bit on how that affects his relationship with Dick and Tim (the latter of which is only mentioned).
> 
> This is an RP between myself (who plays Bruce) and NocturnalWolfe (who plays Jason) and has been edited primarily for my dumb typos. In a perfect world I would heavily rearrange this to be more fic like, but I certainly don't have the time or attention span for that. So have fun reading our filthy RPs instead.

.x. 

The explosion rocked the block, shook him down to his bones. He held Red Hood tight to him as he leapt from the window, trying to shield him from the blast as best he could. The force of the explosion pushed against his back, hot and powerful, throwing them across the street onto another rooftop. They rolled and rolled and rolled, Bruce doing his best to move with the force, the impact, while keeping hold of Jason all the while. Some third roll in the momentum nearly tore the younger man from him, but Bruce held tight the way he hadn't been able to years ago, refusing to let him go.

He could feel the building next store trembling, crumbling, but maybe that was just him. They finally rolled to a stop, Bruce crouched over Jason, the young man's face a mess of bruises and blood, most of which Bruce had been forced to put there.

" _Jason_ ," he used his real name now that they were alone, tone low and gravely but _worried_ , despite everything.

Jason was disoriented. The explosion had meant to take out all three of them, he'd passed the point of caring. If Bruce wouldn't kill Joker, Jason would, and if he had to take out the two of them as well, then so be it. As long as he took down the steaming _pile of shit_ , it would be worth it.

But it didn't go according to plan. With mere seconds left on the timer, Batman had grabbed him and escaped the building with him. They tumbled across the rooftop across the street until Jason didn't know which way was up. All Jason was aware of was the body pressed against his, holding onto him with a grip that suggested he was never going to let go. That and the pain of various wounds and bruises all across his body.

When they finally rolled to a stop, Jason stared up at the cowled face above him as he reoriented himself. He was usually better at keeping himself centered but he decided to blame the various injuries he sustained and how _tired_ he was. It took a couple of seconds, but his expression hardened and he shoved at Bruce, a sharp gasp escaping him against his will at the jolt of pain that shot through his hand.

"Get _off me,_ " he snarled.

"No." Bruce growled in his Batman voice. "Enough." He grasped Jason's wrist with a gentleness at odds with the fact they'd been beating each other to a pulp not three minutes before. Jason's right hand was burned and bloody from the back-fire, just like the rest of Jason. Some part of him had been seared a long time ago.

"We're done here," Bruce said, voice firm but gentle. But he didn't move, stayed curled over him, holding his wrist, suggesting that _done_ didn't mean Jason leaving again.

Jason thrashed, trying to yank himself free of Bruce's hold. "Let _go of me_ ," he growled. But he was weak, they'd been fighting for a while now, and he'd sustained more injuries than he liked. He needed to leave, needed to recover, so he could return and kick Bruce's ass.

" _No._ " He growled again, steadying his stance, his knees on either side of Jason's hips, one leg pinning his. He kept control of his wrist too, and overall it didn't matter much -- Jason's thrashing was weak, ineffective. They'd both taken a beating, but Jason's had been worse. And he'd seen it in his eyes, in his body -- once that timer went off, Jason had given up. He'd been ready to die.

Bruce put a gauntleted hand to the boy's battered face, curled over him, speaking in a soft growl, his singed cloak hanging on either side of them, almost blocking them from the rest of the world. "It's time to come home now, Jason.”

Jason stopped struggling, for now. It was clear Bruce was stronger in this moment and no amount of fighting would allow Jason to break free. He still wasn't going down without a fight, though, and as Bruce told him it was time to come home, Jason bared his teeth.

"Like _hell_ ," he snarled, jerking his head up to slam it against Bruce's. What was Bruce going to do, knock him out and kidnap him? Like he did when they first met? No, not this time. Jason wasn't going back with him this time.

Bruce grunted, winced, but didn't let up. "Enough!" He held Jason's wrist against his chest, wrapped his other hand around his throat. Nothing tight, nothing harmful. Just controlling. "It's _over_ Jason. You played your hand. You almost died _again_. It's _over._ Come _home._ " 

_You loved him,_ he could hear Alfred's words from earlier that night. _He knows that. It should be enough._

_It isn't_ , he'd answered him, and felt that twist in his gut again. "Jason," he said again, softer. Broken. _I'm sorry. Let me help. Let me fix this. Let me have you again._

Jason stopped, anger twisting almost painfully inside him. Bruce was being so gentle, even as he gripped and held him down, and it only made Jason angrier. He didn't _like this_. He wanted to fight, to throw punches until his knuckles were bleeding and he physically couldn't anymore. He wasn't going to give up, he _couldn't_.

But the way Bruce said his name… it pierced through the anger, and as the anger started to fade, it left confusion in its wake. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't go home, it wasn't his home anymore. It hadn't been for years. Bruce wouldn't accept him like this, how could he? Jason was different now, Bruce would never let him back in.

"I can't," he whispered, his own voice broken, and he closed his eyes. "I can't..."

Jason was buckling. That broken whisper pierced through him, tore him open, but Bruce tried to ignore it. He opened his hand, let it slide up his throat to his jaw, his cheek. Idly swiped away some of the blood trickling from his lip. He remembered the first time Jason had returned from a battle beaten and battered, how it hurt, how he tried to help. How Jason had grumbled that _this isn't the first time I got a split lip, old man._

He couldn't do this. Ghosts of his, their pasts, kept overlapping with the now, kept distracting him. Made it hard to see reality.

"You can." He whispered. He wanted to see him smile again. Not those smirks or harsh grins. He wanted that ringing laughter that filled the cave, the playful insults, the bright eyes despite the harshness of his life. Jason was always able to overcome it all. So much like Dick, and yet so different all the same.

He wanted that smile. He was selfish, so damn selfish, but he'd give anything for that... but no, he wouldn't, would he? He wouldn't give Jason the one thing he wanted -- Joker's lifeless body at their feet.

Bruce would supplicate himself at Jason's feet if he thought it'd fix anything.

“Jason..."

Jason's breath caught in his throat when Bruce's finger brushed along his lip, and he tensed up under Bruce. He was suddenly painfully aware of their position, and was forcefully reminded of all the times before he'd died when he had imagined exactly this. How often had he gotten himself off thinking of Bruce pinning him down and having his way with him? He'd known it would never happen, Bruce would never see him as anything more than a kid he pulled off the streets, but that hadn't stopped him from fantasizing.

He was suddenly desperate to get away from Bruce for an entirely different reason. If Bruce was willing to overlook Jason's willingness to kill, there was no way he'd overlook _this_.

"Bruce-- _please_." His voice was nearly begging, and he squirmed again, trying to get free but with no real force behind it. He wouldn't get free unless Bruce let him go, and it was beginning to look like he _wouldn’t_.

" _No._ " Jason was squirming again, and Bruce had to force his body from reacting. It was natural, running off the high of the fight, the near-death, and then such stimuli as a warm, strong body squirming beneath him, a body he loved, a boy he loved--

" _No_." He said again.

He tried. He tried to shut himself down, to force away the reaction to their situation, to keep himself from doing something he'd regret for the rest of his life, but Bruce wasn't budging, and Jason was too injured to push him off. He let out a broken whine. He could just shut down, just stop moving, lay there until Bruce finally got up, but he was hurting, he was confused, and this was something he had wanted for a long time.

He leaned up, his free hand hooking around the back of Bruce's neck and yanking him down at the same time until their lips crashed together. And, hell, maybe this would be what he needed to convince Bruce to leave him alone. After all, how could Bruce be okay with having Jason knowing how much Jason wanted him?

That broken whine shook him, sparked something low in his gut he was adamantly ignoring. Jason leaned up and caught the back of his neck, and Bruce leaned back, expecting another head butt, but Jason just yanked him down, down and in and in until--

Their lips crashed together and Bruce just... _stopped_. Jason... this was... something up his sleeve. A last ditch attempt. He was--

Bruce's hand slipped around to cup the back of his head, tipping into the kiss.

\--Jason was trying to get the upper hand. Shock him. Because--

A broken sound escaped Bruce’s lips into the kiss, but he didn't stop. He cradled Jason's bad wrist to his chest, held the back of his head, and Jason tasted like blood and gunpowder and ash.

And if this is what it took to get him home, Bruce would give it to him.

Jason wasn't expecting it, he figured Bruce would shove him away, look at him in disgust and tell him to get lost. He had been expecting that to be the last straw, the thing to make Bruce want him _gone._

But it wasn't.

Bruce was _kissing him back_ , and something inside Jason snapped. He pushed into the kiss more, whining with need and lust, arching up against him.

A part of him knew Bruce was probably just toying with him, leading him on in some twisted attempt to please Jason, a part of him recognized there was no way Bruce could _mean_ this, but he hadn't stopped, and Jason was desperate.

Oh he still hated the man with a burning passion, but was it so wrong to direct that burn elsewhere, if only temporarily?

Bruce sucked in a gasp as Jason's body pressed up against his. He needed to stop this. This -- this was not okay. This would ruin them both. This--

Bruce pressed him back down against the rooftop, gently but firmly, kissing him all the way. Jason was open and whining beneath him, and Bruce switched between ghosting his lips over his and diving in, licking his mouth, tasting him, pulling back to taste the blood on his lip, lick the slit he'd given him. Kiss it gently in apology. He shifted that apology to the corner of his mouth, the bruises steadily blooming across his cheeks, his jaw.

"Come home, Jason." He murmured against his bruised skin.

Bruce dominated the kiss and Jason whined, still trying to push up against him despite Bruce holding him down. Bruce broke the kiss and trailed his lips along his jaw and cheek, and Jason struggled for breath.

" _No,_ " he protested, his voice a low growl. Not like this, he couldn't go back now. He rocked his hips up against Bruce, hoping his meaning was clear. _Not until you fuck me._ He couldn't let Bruce have time to think about all the reasons this was _wrong_. He'd consider going back with Bruce, but not before he got what he wanted.

He shouldn't do this. He _couldn't_. But that strong body rocked against his, and Jason had always been attractive, Bruce just hadn't _thought_ about it, not like this, and now he couldn't _stop_ thinking about it. How hard he'd fought. The power behind each punch. The precision behind each kick. How every twist and turn of his body was practiced, precise. Wild to those who didn't know him. Not like Bruce knew him--

He dropped his hips down, and if asked, it would be to better pin him, better control him. He kissed him again, hungry and desperate, growling his name again in warning. “Don't."

Bruce pinned him with his hips and Jason growled, biting Bruce's lip when the man kissed him again, defiant. "I know you want me," he growled against his lips. Bruce was always in control of himself, _always_. Even if he _was_ just humoring him, just trying to get him to agree, he had to want Jason _just a little bit_ to even act on it. "You can't lie to me.”

Bruce sucked in a gasp at the bite, hated the way his body reacted to it, sparking down his spine, driving his hips harder against Jason's. " _Don't,_ " he growled again, but his eyes were closed, and it was more like a beg, a prayer. He couldn't do this. How could he do this? He pressed a hand to the center of his chest, held him down while Bruce forced himself up, hovering over him but their bodies only touching where his hand braced against his chest, his knees burning againstJason's hips. " _Jason._ " _I love you. Don't make me do this._

Jason hated the distance Bruce put between them immediately, feeling cold in the sudden lack of contact. He growled, reaching down with his free hand to the front of Bruce's pants, gripping him there. He wasn't about to give this up. He was already past the point of no return. He'd passed that the moment he kissed Bruce. He at least wanted to make it _worth it_. He let go of Bruce and instead pressed the hidden catch on Bruce's utility belt, causing it to swing free, and immediately followed that by pushing his hand into his pants.

And Bruce... could've stopped him. There was no reason for Jason's hand to get that close, not without Bruce's own catching his. But one hand still held Jason's bad wrist, the other still pressed against the younger’s chest, and he _shuddered_ as Jason squeeze him, curled over him as Jason's gloved hand slipped into his pants, found his undeniable erection.

Bruce dipped down and kissed him again, hungry and biting and _hating_ himself for the way he rocked into Jason's touch.

Jason felt triumphant when Bruce kissed him again, and he kissed back hard, fighting for dominance, his hand wrapping around Bruce's length and stroking him without hesitation, spurred on by the way Bruce rocked into his hand. He'd won, this time. He'd probably have to disappear after this, Bruce would want nothing to do with him, but it would be worth it, to get what he'd wanted for so long.

The fight had returned to the younger man, at least for this, so Bruce fought him back, growling into the kiss and biting down on his split lip even as he rocked desperately into his hand. _Fine_ , he thought, grabbing Jason's wrist and yanking his hand from his pants, only to tear off his glove with his teeth. No material to hide behind.

A jolt shot through Jason when Bruce yanked his hand out and ripped his glove off with his teeth and he groaned, his cock twitching. Once the glove was off, he pulled his hand free again and shoved it right back into Bruce's pants, wasting no time in wrapping his hand around his cock again and stroking him.

A gasp ripped from him as that hot, calloused hand wrapped around him. A hand that had once been rough from the streets, hardened with training, wrapped around batarangs and bolas and Bruce's own cape--

He forced open Jason's mouth with his own, growling as he licked inside, marked him, claimed him. _Once a Robin_ , he thought, while something less controlled, less moral, growled _Mine. Mine. Always mine._

He worked open Jason's belt and pants in seconds, like he'd figured out how to do it the moment he laid eyes on him, and dove his hand inside, covering his arousal, pushing his gauntlet covered palm against it.

Jason was needy, _desperate_ , and opened up willingly for Bruce, arching up into that hand that shoved into his pants. " _Yes_ ," he moaned. There was something inexplicably arousing about Bruce still being in full costume, knowing Bruce had given in to his desires while still in costume. _Batman_ had lost control, and Jason was riding higher than he ever had right now.

He squeezed Bruce, moaned into his mouth and increased the pace of his strokes. _More,_ he silently pleaded. _Give in like you want to._

Bruce couldn't stop now, hips pushing into every rough touch, the slide of Jason's calloused hand hot and burning without anything to soften the slide, but that felt right. He deserved that. Jason though...

He pulled his hand free and spit into his palm, then wrapped his fingers back around Jason's arousal, working it hard and fast. He kissed him the same way, then pulled back to kiss just his lips, tonguing the split, then let his mouth trail over his jaw, testing each area with a little press of his teeth, trying to find the best place to sink his teeth into him that wouldn't aggravate his wounds.

Jason _reveled_ in the attention Bruce was giving him, the small kisses and nips and the hand almost expertly working his cock like he'd done this dozens of times before. His hips rocked freely up into his hand, while his own hand continued to stroke Bruce, fingers brushing along the tip and spreading precum along his shaft.

He wondered what would happen if anyone saw them. Batman caught with his hand down the pants of a vigilante that tried to kill the Joker. How would he recover from that?

Bruce thought only of them, only of the horrible choice he was making to keep Jason. He should never have allowed this, and maybe Jason had forgiven him for failing him before, but he should never be forgiven for this, for sullying their partnership.

He gasped into his mouth as Jason played with his tip, slicked up his fingers with Bruce's own precum. How would they taste, he thought, but he couldn't move his mouth from Jason's jaw. He sucked down to the dip of it, breathed in his scent, bit down on the reinforced material at his neck.

All the while he worked his cock, teasing his full head, pressing his thumb to the jumping pulse while his fingers dived down to explore his sac.

Jason let out a broken groan at the bite, hips stuttering into Bruce's hand. He wasn't sure how much longer he could last. Normally he'd be able to last longer, but it was overwhelming, the attention from Bruce. The man he'd had countless fantasies over, weakened and giving into the base desires, _wanting_ Jason and _taking_ him, marking him as _his_. All of this sent thrills through him, increased the pleasure that came with each little touch, making his skin tingle or burn where Bruce touched him.

" _Fuck_ ," he whined out breathlessly, arching off the rooftop briefly as heat coiled in his gut.

That sound. _God_ , that sound. He bit down again just to hear it again, then sucked and sucked and sucked, the fabric wet beneath his tongue.

"Language," he growled reflexively, without thinking, and for a moment he just wanted to laugh at the audacity of this all.

Jason arched against him so he slipped a hand to the curve of his spine, held him there, working over his arousal in his hand desperately while he kissed and bit at Jason's throat.

Jason did laugh, breathless and just a tad hysterical. Language was the least of their worries right now. Points to Bruce for holding that value. And then the defiant part of him got the idea to challenge it.

"Or what," he asked, trying to hold back a moan as Bruce continued attacking his neck. He was going to be bruised from all these bites tomorrow, but he wasn't sure they'd even be recognizable among all the other bruises he'd have.

That laugh tore through him, and it _hurt_ as much as it warmed something in him. And as his brash, cheeky little Robin reasserted himself, Bruce growled and bit his throat once more, then dove back in for a searing kiss. His hand slid down Jason's cock, encircled the bottom and _squeezed_ in warning. He could stop this -- _should_ stop this.

Jason _keened_ as Bruce squeezed him. That hardly seemed like a punishment, and Jason might have swore again if Bruce wasn't holding his mouth captive. Still, it didn't stop him from biting down on Bruce's bottom lip, tugging harshly before kissing him harder.

Bruce loved every sound Jason made, cataloged each to compare them later. His heavy breaths, that little laugh, the moans and groans, that keen. Needy and wanting and begging without words.

Bruce's cock leapt against Jason's hand at the bite, the ruthless tug of his lip between Jason's teeth, and he growled and kissed back just as hard, just as biting. He had to hear him come now, had to follow this through so he could catalog the sound he'd make when he fell apart under Bruce's touch.

He sucked on the blood still pooling at his lowering lip and grunted as he jerked him, doing his best to pull him over the edge.

Jason felt Bruce's cock twitch in his hand in response to the bite and grinned against his lips. So Bruce liked it rough, huh? Jason wasn't really surprised, if he thought about it. He filed that information away for later, and was immediately distracted as Bruce seemed to refocus his efforts. He wasn't going to last much longer now, he knew. His hand stilled on Bruce's cock, and he focused all his attention into the hand on his back and the one around his cock and the lips forcefully pressed against his own. He licked into Bruce's mouth, moaning as he came, hips bucking wildly into Bruce's hand.

Bruce devoured those sounds like a starving man, committing them to memory as Jason spilled over his hand. He kept stroking him steadily, working him all the way, milking him dry until at least one part of the man relaxed beneath his touch.

And still he kissed him. Lips to lips. Pecking, sucking, kissing, as he rocked into Jason's loose fist as he hovered over the edge. "Jason," he breathed, sliding the hand that had been at his back up to cup his face. “ _Jason._ "

Jason was already starting to feel better in the afterglow of his orgasm, and the way his name sounded on Bruce's lips was heavenly, and he committed it to memory. The good feeling would fade soon and he'd remember how much he was hurting but right now he was going to finish what he'd started. Bruce hadn't come yet, and Jason intended to fix that.

Jason was sure Bruce's guard was down enough that he could flip them over, so he did just that. He hooked his leg around Bruce's waist, temporarily letting go of Bruce's cock as he flipped them over. Once he was on top, he nudged Bruce's pants down just enough to free his cock, slicked up with his own precum that Jason had been steadily coating him with. He started stroking him faster, hand twisting and squeezing him as he stroked, leaning down to kiss Bruce hard.

Jason flipped them and Bruce gasped and _stared_ , watching him. He should've stopped him, could've shifted his weight, grabbed his thigh, but he was too focused on the easy, relaxed look on Jason's face and the shape of his lips as he breathed through his orgasm.

He froze once Jason was on top, tensed as Jason nudged down his pants and exposed his shamefully erect cock, leaking precum. He felt sick, but then Jason was twisting and squeezing and kissing and--

He arched into his touch, gasping out a broken sound as he clutched his fallen Robin to him, came hard and almost painfully beneath his touch.

Jason gave a quiet moan into the kiss as Bruce came, continued to stroke him through his orgasm until he relaxed. He softened the kiss, placing a few gentle kisses to his lips, his jaw, before leaning back. He made quick work of fixing himself up as he pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the lingering pain in his hand.

"This was fun. We should do it again sometime." He was already backing away, and once he was decent, he turned and ran for the edge of the rooftop, leaping off it before Bruce had a chance to follow. He still had to get himself decent, after all.

Jason's kisses turned soft, gentle, and it completely wrecked him. He shuddered, held him close, reveled in the first gentle thing Jason had done to him since he came crashing back into his life. It was worth it, he thought, for this.

But then Jason slipped right through his fingers once again.

_No._

" _Jason--_ " but he had the upper hand, was up and fixed and running to the edge of the rooftop before Bruce could process the sharp pain in his chest. " _Jason!_ "

But he was gone. He should've tried to follow again, but... all the fight left him, for once. He laid against the hard rooftop, eyes shut tight against the wave of emotion he had to get under control.

How could he have let this happen?

He tucked himself back into his pants, squeezed himself until it _hurt_ because it _should_ , that shameful want. He'd rip if out if he were a stronger man. He lifted a hand to his face, froze, because it was the gauntlet still slick and smelling of Jason.

Bruce ripped it off with a growl and tossed it away, curling up with his head in his hands, teeth grinding until his skull hurt, fingers pressing like he could tear through the weak flesh of his and rid himself of it.

Finally, he stood up. Shoved it all away. Sirens started ringing from a few blocks away, and he could hear Joker's weak, coughing laughter from the collapsed building across the way.

He turned, let his cloak hid him, his shoulders hunched. He started off, then froze. Turned a few steps and picked up his glove, tucking it into a compartment on his belt he'd retrieved.

And he disappeared into the night, though a piece of him had already leapt off the rooftop.

Jason made his way back to his apartment, made sure to close and lock all the windows and draw all the blinds. He was sure Bruce hadn't followed him back, but he would rather not make it _easier_ to find him.

He moved to the bathroom to shower and rinse off. Admittedly, he was still rather pent up. Never in a million years had he imagined getting such an opportunity, and the way Bruce felt on top of him, using his body to pin him down, the hand wrapped around his cock, the way his name sounded on Bruce's tongue. He wouldn't be forgetting any of it anytime soon.

He started the water, then stripped before getting into the shower. As the water started to run over him, rinsing away the dirt and grime from the last couple hours, he wrapped his hand around his cock, bringing back the memories of Bruce, the way he sounded, the way he smelled, the way he _felt_. It was too good to be true, and yet it _was_. He hadn't imagined it, Bruce had _wanted him_.

.x.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is Not Okay. Jason draws Batman out again. A desk is involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert, this part is my favourite.

.x.

Bruce fell into a slump. He spoke even less than normal, couldn't look at Alfred, couldn't eat, and moved around the manor like a ghost was haunting him. Dick had come by, knew immediately something was wrong and tried to coax it out of him. Bruce couldn't look at him, either, terrified that feelings for his first son, the one he raised since he was nine, would somehow rise to the surface too. He told him in sharp words to return to Bludhaven.

Tim, thank god, was off-world with the Titans.

Bruce spent days staring off into space, laying in bed longer than necessary, working desperately at cases that he couldn't make sense of because all he could hear was Jason's breathy moans. He remembered every second, and it replayed over in his mind constantly despite his attempts to drown it out. Jason had never said his name, though, not like Bruce who had said his name six times since the first time their lips crashed together.

Dear god, help him, he wanted to hear his name on Jason's lips.

Bruce ignored all the news reports about Black Mask and Joker and Red Hood once he got the cursory information. He put on the suit -- no, not the same one. He grabbed another with the excuse that it needed mending, even though Alfred could've done it in the blink of an eye. Batman made his rounds across Gotham, but he was brutal, sloppy. Allowed hits he could've avoided. He needed the pain.

He trained. Dodging and twisting, lifting weights just a bit too heavy for him. The pain was good. He deserved it. It centered him.

He couldn't meditate. He'd taught all his Robins how, stressed the importance of it, and yet he couldn't because every time he closed his eyes he saw Jason beneath him, his face covered in the bruises he'd given him, lips red and slick from the kisses he gave him too.

Eventually, the reports of Red Hood became too important. Not just sightings or rumors of him moving around in the underworld. He was making his move, though to what end Bruce was uncertain.

_Liar. You know exactly what he wants._

He couldn't ignore this. People would get hurt. Dick -- he'd never told Dick who Red Hood was, couldn't bear that conversation -- called and asked after it, if he needed help, and Bruce had barked at him to stay clear, that he could handle it.

Dick had gone silent for a long moment. "Jesus, B." He said quietly. "What happened?"

_I slept with your dead little brother._ "Focus on your city."

 

And so Batman suited up and slipped into the city.

Jason returned to business as normal. His business, tearing apart the underworld of Gotham and destroying the low-life leaders of the darkest parts of Gotham. Every time he expected Bruce to show up and stop him, every move he made he anticipated the Bat, planned _around_ him, but those plans weren't necessary. Bruce never showed.

He was disappointed.

Bruce seemed to be deliberately ignoring him and he tried to ignore how much that hurt. A part of him worried if he'd pushed Bruce too far. He had ears to the ground, people were talking about how Batman was losing his grip, he was so easy to fight now. Many bragged about how they single-handedly took Batman down. Jason knew they were lying, exaggerating stories, but there was still some seed of truth to them. Bruce was taking hits he shouldn't be.

Finally, after a month of hearing these stories, Jason had enough. It was time to bring Batman to him, to knock some sense into him and tell him to stop being so damn stupid. After all, he was absolutely certain that this was his fault.

He planted a seed, a rumor of some big gun deal going on and how Red Hood was going to get involved, let the rumors spread like wildfire. They would make it back to Bruce, and Jason would be waiting.

But god if he didn't _want_ Bruce. He needed Bruce to show up. This meeting would have more than one purpose.

He was waiting in a small abandoned office near the docks, in a small corner where the office and a series of warehouses lay abandoned. They'd set up another office near the entrance to the docks and used that regularly. Nobody ever came out this way anymore. They'd be alone, just how Jason wanted it.

The docks were quiet. No movement, no shipment on the south end at this time of night. Not even legal ones.

Bruce lowered his binoculars and grit his teeth.

He should just leave. This was a set up.

But it was Jason's set up. And despite everything, Bruce had been letting Red Hood run wild for weeks. He needed to end this.

Bruce tracked him easily a few buildings away from the waterfront, abandoned offices and warehouses. He slipped into the office without a sound, cloak covering him as he stared down the man waiting for him. Bruce kept his distance.

"Red Hood."

Jason tried not to react to Bruce's arrival, the way he growled out his given name, the way he wanted to resume where they'd left off a month ago. He turned to face him, glaring at him under his helmet. Seeing Bruce again brought with it a wave of emotions, reminding him how much he _hated_ the asshole in front of him, his stupid decisions that left Joker still standing, the way Bruce had been deliberately ignoring him for the last month. But he also ached for him, wanted to-- _needed_ to feel him again. Bruce wouldn't need to be so gentle this time, Jason was healed, there were no wounds to aggravate.

"Batman," he answered. "You've been avoiding me." It wasn't a question. "It's unlike you, to let a criminal run loose in your city." Anger tinted his tone, unspoken accusations of Bruce abandoning him. He wanted a reaction out of Bruce, he needed to bring that spark back, to wake Bruce up from whatever stupor he'd fallen into.

"I've had other cases." A cruel lie. Those silent accusations Jason threw him were all true. What had he done, except abandoned him once again? Even if he was trying to save him from Bruce himself.

He wondered how his bruises had faded under the helmet. His split lip. He could still taste Jason's blood on his tongue.

"I'm just not an important enough _case_ for you, am I?" he asked harshly. "I never was." Jason could see it now, the way Bruce held himself, the way he spoke, like he felt small, like he didn't belong in his own skin. He was broken. Jason had never seen him like this before. Jason felt a twinge of guilt. This was his fault, it had to be. And he had to set it right. He had to fix this before Bruce got himself killed.

He just wished he knew how.

"You've _always_ been important!" He snapped, growling. "You never had to _prove_ it. That's what always got you in trouble." He stalked forwards, his prowl all Batman. "You always had to make your mark. On the city. On the Riddler. On the drug dealers, the crime lords. You always threw yourself at them like you had to prove your right to be there. You did it to them, to Dick, to yourself. To me." 

Bruce stopped just a few steps away.

"You're doing it right now. When will it be enough for you?”

Jason hated how Bruce stalking towards him like that sent a thrill through him. He didn't move, had to resist the urge to close the last of the distance between them.

He clenched his jaw, glad for the helmet that covered his face and hid the emotions probably flickering across his expression. "I wasn't important enough for you, apparently," he shot back, his tone adding to the words. When would it be enough? _When you show me how important I am to you_.

"You've always been important," he repeated, softer this time, though his voice was still low and rough. It didn't go beyond his notice that Jason stood still, neither backed away nor came closer. "Do you think I would make just anyone Robin? I would take just anyone home and show you my world? Out of all of Gotham, you came to me, and I _chose_ you.”

"And then you _left me_!" No, he wasn't still angry about Bruce not making it in time to save him. He'd accepted that it was mostly his own fault for running off when Bruce told him not to, but that wasn't the point of this. The point was to get Bruce to stop falling apart. He needed a reminder that he couldn't give up. Jason was the bait, in more ways than one.

" _No._ " He growled, grabbed his bicep so he couldn't slip through his fingers again. " _You_ left _me._ ”

Jason tensed under his grip, grit his teeth. Bruce had brought himself close enough and Jason wanted to wrap his arms around him, and at the same time wanted to punch him.

He went for the latter.

He swung his free hand up, aiming for Bruce's jaw.

Bruce tipped mostly out of the way, but Jason's fist still got a side swipe. Jason was still within his hold so he shoved him backwards, body following his, pressed in close for the upper hand, grabbed for his other wrist. “Enough!"

Bruce shoved him back, right up against the nearest desk. The toy he had inside him jolted and he couldn't stop the slight whine that escaped him. He turned it into a growl and yanked his hand free, aiming another, slightly sloppier, punch at Bruce's face.

He didn't miss that whine. It jolted through him, stoked a fire low in his gut. Bruce growled, dodged the punch, and aimed his own at Red Hood's helmet. "I said _enough!_ " He spun him around, shoved him hard against the desk and grabbed for his arms, pinning them behind his back, like the criminal Bruce kept forgetting his was.

Jason didn't block the punch, too distracted to fight properly. Bruce absolutely didn't help by spinning him around and slamming him down against the desk. Jason's cock twitched, and he bit his tongue to stifle a moan, fought the urge to rut against the desk.

"What are you going to do, Bruce? Tie me up? I bet you'd love to have me at your mercy like that," he growled. He could break free, even distracted as he was, but he didn't _want_ to. He would fight just enough to get Bruce to use force. He wanted to be forced, god he wanted Bruce to be rough with him.

" _Quiet!_ " He barked, a trickle of panic flowing down his spine, because _god,_ that image.

He pinned him with his bulk, thighs pressed up against him, hips pressing into his rear, and he shoved him up hard against the desk until only the toe of Jason's boots would be able to touch the ground. One hand locked Jason's wrists together at the small of his back, the other grabbed the back of his helmet and smashed it into the desk, then deftly unlatched it and tossed it away with a clatter.

"Is this what you want?" He growled, holding Jason by the hair, leaning over him to growl against his ear. "All these weeks, killing and planning and overtaking the underground, just a little boy's cry for attention?”

It took all Jason had not to grind down against the desk. Bruce didn't even use his hands, he used his _thighs_ to move him, pinned him down with his hips, kept his hands busy with holding Jason's arms down. He grunted as the helmet slammed against the desk, and had to swallow another moan when Bruce unhooked the helmet and instead grabbed him by the hair. Jason couldn't help it, he rocked back against Bruce's groin.

"I'm doing what _you won't_ ," he snarled. "Tearing up the underworld of Gotham and bringing the leaders _down_." But god if this _attention_ wasn't exactly what he'd been craving. The low growl of Bruce's voice in his ear, the vice grip on his hair, the solid weight of Bruce's body against him.

Jason rocked back against him and Bruce _slammed_ his hips into him, pinned him so he couldn't move. "You're _killing_ them," he growled. "You think that will fix anything? You're _becoming_ them. Everything I've taught you, you've _ignored_.”

Jason struggled to move, but Bruce's weight had him pinned tightly to the desk. He couldn't remember ever being so turned on in his life.

"I'm crossing a line you _won't_. They fear death. There's no _consequences_ with you. You stick them in Arkham so they can just escape and kill more," he snapped.

"This isn't an _argument_." His hand tightened in his hair and hips jolted forwards again, arousal flaring to life. He shifted his grip so he could turn Jason's face, see half of it, the domino mask hiding his eyes. "Stop this and come _home._ ”

Jason groaned, his eyes half-lidded under his mask. He attempted again to grind back against Bruce, a small whine escaping when Bruce jerked his hips forward. God he was so desperate, so needy. He should have been embarrassed, but he wasn't. "You'll have to _make me_ ," he growled.

_God_ that whine. It was so beautiful. Jason squirmed beneath him so Bruce thrust against him again, wanting to hear that sound again. _You'll have to make me._ It didn't work last time, he had no reason to try it again. He should just tie him up like he said, haul him home--

Bruce kissed him. Leaned in and captured those lips and _bit_ , bit down until he could taste blood.

Bruce caved, _Batman_ caved and slammed his hips against Jason again, drawing another low whine out of him. Each of Bruce's thrusts caused the plug in him to move, to crash against his prostate and make him see stars. Normally, plugs weren't long enough or the right shape to have that effect but Jason had chosen one that would for this very reason. 

Their lips connected, and Bruce bit down until he broke the skin and Jason groaned. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he filed away bloodplay, for future use. Bruce seemed to enjoy it. He kissed him back hard, licking into his mouth.

Jason was squirming and groaning beneath him, and he loved it -- god help him, he _loved_ it. Jason tried to lick into his mouth but he wouldn't let him, dominated and steered the kiss, biting down on his tongue, sucking at it.

"Is this what you want?" He hissed, forcing his hand between Jason and the desk, jerking open his pants and taking hold of him while pulling him back into his own hips. " _Answer me!_ ”

Jason lost the fight for control but found he didn't care. Bruce may have control _here_ but Jason knew he had Bruce wrapped around his finger. It took less time for Bruce to give in this time than it had the first time. Jason _had him_.

He keened when Bruce's hand wrapped around him and he was yanked back against him. He jerked weakly into his hand, a jolt flying through him at Bruce's harsh demand.

" _Yes_ ," he growled out. "Yes, _please._ " Bruce would inevitably tug his pants down and find that Jason was already stretched and slicked up, _waiting_ for him.

Bruce smothered his moan into Jason's mouth, jerking him off roughly. "Say it again," he demanded as he released Jason's arms and hair to work the youngerpants open and down. "Tell me what you want me to do.”

Jason groaned, a thrill shooting up his spine as Bruce worked to get his pants off. He didn't fight against him, not yet. Even though he knew that fighting would make Bruce be rough with him again. "Fuck me," he moaned. "I want you in me.”

_Yes_ a dark part of him keened, thrilled at this. _Yes._ He grabbed his hips, leather gloves creaking, as he bared Jason's rear, slipped his hand down to feel his firm, muscular ass, teased his thumb down the crease if it when the pad of his thumb brushed something.

"Dear God," he gasped, dropping his forehead to Jason's armored shoulder. He blindly thumbed the plug, grabbed it with his thumb and forefinger and twisted it. Bruce felt himself falling apart. Jason had planned this. Had wanted this. Wanted it _this bad_.

He wanted to see it, but felt it would shatter him to look. He pressed it a little deeper inside. "How long?" His voice shook.

Bruce brushed the plug and Jason's breath caught, a strangled moan escaping as Bruce twisted it, pushed it in deeper. It didn't hurt, it was coated in lube, it just sent pleasure _right_ through him.

He didn't answer the question, he didn't trust his voice anymore. _Longer than you know_ , he thought. He rocked back against his hand moaning quietly as the plug moved in him.

Bruce put his mouth to Jason's throat, feeling the thrum of his pulse beneath his lips as he worked the plug inside him, pushing and twisting. "How many times this month," he asked softly, "Did you try to draw me out, wait for me with this inside you?”

Jason shuddered under Bruce, rocking back almost helplessly. "Too many," he groaned. More than he wanted to admit. But never when he thought it would put himself in danger. He wasn't stupid. Needy, but not stupid. And those times he did, he went home disappointed, aching and empty and wishing Bruce had shown up, simultaneously hating himself, for being so stupidly hopeful, and Bruce, for avoiding him like he was.

God. He groaned into Jason's throat. Would it have changed things, if he'd known? Would he have come after him sooner?

No. He would’ve avoided him more. Desperate and wanting, imagining it shamefully, but avoided him all the harder.

"Did you think of me?" He growled, still playing with the toy inside him. "When you got home. Did you touch yourself and think of me?"

"Yes," Jason answered, barely missing a beat. "Imagined what you would have done to me if you'd have shown up. I remember-- how you moaned my name, how badly you wanted me." He panted, closing his eyes under his mask. "Imagined you marking me up, letting the world know _Red Hood_ belongs to _Batman_.”

"Yes," Bruce growled, biting down on his throat. " _You do._ " He bit and sucked up his neck and jaw mercilessly, marking him just as he said,jabbing the plug inside, then ripping it out of him. "You're _mine._ This--" he shoved a finger inside him. "Is _mine._ Say it.”

Jason could barely think straight anymore, his mind so full of lust and desire and need for more, all that mattered right now, all that existed was Bruce on top of him, claiming him, marking his neck and jaw. The plug disappeared almost painfully, only to be replaced by Bruce's gloved finger and Jason whined.

He rocked back against him hard, twisted a little under his grip, trying to make it seem like he was struggling, one last fight, one more act of defiance. He wanted Bruce to _take him_ , it was less fun if he just handed himself over. Even though that was _all_ he wanted to do right now.

Bruce ripped his hand out and shoved him against the desk, the wood creaking beneath them. " _Say it!_ "He worked his belt open, made sure it was noisy enough for Jason to hear the clinking and clattering.

Jason heard Bruce opening his belt, and he wanted to look-- _god_ he wanted to look, but Bruce was holding him down and he couldn't turn his head far enough. He struggled against his hold for a second more, then gave in.

" _Yours,_ " he conceded. " _Only yours_." He quivered a bit in anticipation, eager for Bruce, eager for the older man to fill him.

"Good boy," he breathed, taking his aching arousal out and pressing his tip against his hot, slick, hole. And he had to stop, sucking in a breath, pressed his forehead to Jason's shoulder, breathing harshly.

Dear God he wanted this. Wanted Jason. _Needed_ him.

Bruce groaned, gripped his hips with both hands, and _pushed_ right inside. He was hot and slick, all ready and open for him so he could just slide right in, so he did. Again and again. And again. He shuddered and groaned, teeth at the nape of Jason's neck, fucking into him.

Jason whined low at the praise. He felt Bruce press against him and kept carefully still, muscles so tight it _hurt_. He needed this, but he needed Bruce to give in, to thrust in first, to prove that he wanted it as much as Jason did.

Jason's hands moved to the desk as Bruce slid into him, fingers clawing at the surface and finding no purchase. He was stretched but Bruce was _so big_ and filled him so completely and Jason moaned loud, pushing back erratically against his thrusts. It took him a moment, small moans and whines and grunts falling freely with each thrust, but he managed to find a rhythm to match Bruce's, rocking back to meet each thrust, squeezing his eyes shut.

This was everything he'd imagined and _more_ , and he loved every second.

" _Good boy_ ," he said again to hear that low whine again, whispered it against his ear. He slid one hand up and slipped the plug into Jason's, growling against his ear. "Don't drop it."

Every squirm, every breath, every loud and soft sound that slipped from his lips Bruce was desperate for, wanted each and every one of them, the sound of them shooting down his spine because they were _his_ , _he_ was causing those sounds, for his ears only.

One hand gripped Jason’s hair again while the other held him by the hip, squeezing until he could feel the press of the bone against palm. He fucked him hard, rocked into him mercilessly as his mouth explored the line of his suit, bit at his jaw, and he wrenched Jason’s head back until their lips brushed again. "You're going to come just like this," he growled low, dangerously.

The plug slid into his hand and Jason gripped it, squeezing it tight as Bruce's hand gripped his hair. The hand on his hip clenched down painfully, but it simply mixed in with the other pleasure building up inside him. He was going to be covered in marks after this, his hip, his jaw, his neck, so many reminders of this moment, Jason was going to treasure them for as long as they lasted.

The defiant part of him, the part that yearned for more punishment, caused a growl to slip out at Bruce's words. He slid a hand down, wrapping it around himself and started stroking hard and fast. _C'mon Bruce,_ he thought, _I dare you to stop me._  

Bruce _growled_ , and did just as Jason wanted, grabbing him by the wrist and slamming that hand down on the desk over his head. "This or nothing," he growled into his ear. He thrust into him hard again, shoved him with his thigh to force the man further off balance, his weight held up only by the desk and Bruce's own bulk. He curled over him and panted into his hair, getting lost in the tight, hot, slick feel of Jason around him, squeezing him, rocking back into him and picking up his rhythm within seconds every time Bruce tried to change it.

Jason gave in, panting and whining as he was shoved further up onto the desk, his cock pressed against the desk in an almost painful way. Not that he could focus on that. He gave in to the pleasure, the heat and weight of Bruce above him, the harsh thrusts that buried Bruce in deep, the breath against his scalp. His attention went to keeping time with Bruce's thrusts, his moans and soft, breathless requests for _'more'_ and quiet swears slipping out unfiltered.

Every sound Jason made was the most beautiful thing Bruce had ever heard, every gasped _more_ and _fuck_ shooting sparks down his spine, drove his hips faster and harder. He tugged at his hair again so he could dig his teeth into the curve of his jaw, into the soft flesh right beneath it. " _I_ made you," he growled, low and barely above a whisper but still demanding. "No one else. Everything you are is because of _me._ " The good--

And the bad.

" _Yes,_ " he breathed. He didn't care how accurate it was, he was riding high, Bruce sliding in and out so _easily_ , the teeth marking up every spot they could, Bruce's low voice in his ear, the hand gripping his hair, each brush against his prostate that made it near impossible to focus, and the simple, beautiful knowledge that Bruce, that _Batman_ , was giving into the pleasure, the desire, the _need_ to be buried deep in Jason and mark him his.

" _Now unmake me._ " He didn't even realize he said it out loud, punctuated it with a needy moan.

Bruce _shuddered_ , groaned and shook and wrenched him up. By the hair first, then slipped and arm around his chest and locked him up against him, yanked at his hair to bare his throat and made a feral sound as he attacked his neck.He slammed into him relentlessly as he held Jason up and tight to his chest, fucking up into him, holding him up easily despite Jason's own bulk and how his boots barely scraped the ground by his own. 

"Who do you belong to?" He bit his ear, his jaw. His thighs trembled as he refused his own orgasm until Jason came, desperate for it. He slid his mouth up his cheek, not quite kissing it, biting down on the edge of his mask.

It happened so fast and Jason could only moan, hips jerking wildly as Bruce held him up like he weighed nothing, bit into his neck like he wanted to rip it open. He was drowning in the mixture of pain and pleasure, lost in Bruce entirely enveloping him.

"Batman," he gasped. " _Batman_." He keened, he couldn't even find the words to warn he was close, the heat coiled so tightly in him until he came hard, bucking wildly.

It took everything in Bruce not to come right as Jason said his name. He slammed up into him, bit down on his bottom lip, tugged on his hair and -- _god,_ dear god. Jason came, and he just kept spilling over, shooting all up his chest and armor.

Bruce tightened his grip on him and groaned out a sigh as he came almost immediately after, pressed in deep within him.

His chest heaved as his muscles slowly relaxed again, rested his cowled head against Jason's shoulder. The hand holding his hair slid down to his hip, the other arm locked across his chest loosened enough so he could palm his strong pecs, glide his hand over the shape of the bat inset on the armor.

He lowered him carefully back down onto the desk, gently kissing his neck now, and slipped his hand into Jason's to take hold of the plug again. Bruce shifted his hips just enough to slide out, then immediately plugged him back up before any of his cum could escape.

Jason felt Bruce come in him, and he groaned low, panting as Bruce buried deep in him. Bruce slid a hand over his chest, traced his bat symbol, and Jason's eyes closed at the feeling. He didn't struggle against Bruce as he was guided back down over the desk. Bruce had switched from rough and brutal to gentle and caring and Jason didn't like it. He was about to protest when Bruce reached for his hand, took the plug that Jason forgot he was still holding, and then Bruce pulled out of him, only to replace the plug inside him.

Jason's mind reeled at that, a flicker of heat flaring in his gut. "Fuck you, old man," he growled weakly, but he didn't reach to pull it out. He knew what Bruce was doing, and he wasn't about to stop it. Not when it was so _goddamn_ arousing. He wondered how long he could get by leaving it in. It would have to come out at some point soon, but how long could he leave it in there and be fine? He was determined to find out.

He knew it was time to go, but god, he wasn't sure if he could walk anymore. This wasn't like the first time, when they'd gotten each other off and Jason took off before Bruce could recover, Bruce had fucked him and held nothing back and he was still a little weak in the knees. He needed to figure out a way to escape before Bruce _did_ tie him up and drag him back to the manor.

"Not tonight," Bruce chuckled despite himself, tracing the edge of the plug as he pressed his mouth to Jason's cheek, thrilled at the way Jason didn't even try to pull it out. He slipped both hands down Jason's bare thighs to tug his pants up. He roughly tucked his own penis back into his pants, then took care of Jason's cock like it was something precious, zipped and buckled his pants.

Then he gently turned him around by the hips, and his mouth found Jason's again, kissing him softly. He slid one hand up his body, cradling his jaw. He still wasn't thinking right, focused instead just on Jason warm beneath his touch, pliant in some ways. But here, right here. He could make this right so long as Jason was _here._

Jason grumbled as Bruce started to pull his pants up, telling him he could _do it just fine himself_ , but made no move to stop Bruce. He let himself be turned around, pressed back into the kiss with no real force, keeping it gentle, keeping Bruce's attention on the kiss so he could slip his hand carefully into one of the pockets on Bruce's belt, pulling out the pair of cuffs he knew Bruce carried. A small part of him regretted what he was about to do, but he wasn't ready to go back yet, and he knew Bruce would fight to take him 'home'. Jason refused to go back.

His free hand found Bruce's and he slipped his hand into his, lacing their fingers together. He guided Bruce's hand down, seemingly distractingly, until Jason knew he had him in the right position. In the next moment, he latched the cuff to Bruce's wrist, and immediately to the leg of the desk. He broke the kiss, swiftly ducking away from Bruce and out of his reach.

"Sorry Bats. Places to be, things to do," he said. He grabbed the discarded helmet off the floor, sliding it back onto his head. He knew Bruce could get out of those cuffs in no time at all, and he needed to _not_ be here when he did. He gave a two-fingered salute as he backed towards the door. "Until next time." He slipped through the door and took off into the night before Bruce could get free and follow him.

His heart jumped into his throat as Jason laced their fingers, and some part of him screamed at how disgusting he was but most of him just _melted_ into the contact, squeezed his hand in return, kissing him a little deeper but still _loving._

He should've seen it coming.

He _did_ see it coming, but had fooled himself into thinking it wouldn't.

All his hope and the high of his orgasm and the bliss of the moments after _shattered._ It played all across his face for a heart-stopping moment, but Jason wouldn't see, was slipping on his helmet, and by then he'd fixed his mask back in place.

_No no_ ** _no_** _._ He jerked against the cuff, the desk dragging a couple inches. " _Jason!_ " _Don't do this, don't leave me, don't let me be alone with this._

But he was gone.

Bruce could've followed. He could escape his own cuff within five seconds in this position. But that five seconds would be enough.Jason wasn't playing to get caught this time. He'd disappear the way Bruce taught him.

His chest hurt, and he wondered if he'd have a heart attack. He didn't uncuff himself, just slid down the dest until he was sitting on the dusty, dirty floor, staring at the door Jason left through.

.x.

Dick arrived only a few minutes later, slipped through the door after he'd confirmed it wasn't an ambush, paused when he saw Bruce on the floor. He looked so destroyed, so hurt, and yet there didn't seem to be a scratch on him. Bruce had told him to stay in Blüdhaven, but Dick had been on his way as soon as Bruce cut the connection. He was worried about him, and it seemed he was right to be. He knew Bruce could get out of that cuff, but there he sat, defeat etched into his body.

"Bruce..." He moved over to him, knelt down next to him. "What happened?”

Bruce's body processed Nightwing’s presence before his mind did, so he didn't tense as the man slipped into the room. Only when Dick knelt down next to him and spoke did his eyes focus and he turned his head just a bit to look at him. Dick. His first Robin. The closest thing he had to a son.

Bruce jerked to the side, curled over, his stomach suddenly churning and he swore he'd be sick, but only bile and his own damned emotions choked him.

"I told you to go back to Blüdhaven," he growled once his could open his mouth again.

"And I ignored it." And it seemed like he was right to, something about the way Bruce curled away from him made Dick's chest ache. "I know you can get out of those cuffs in the blink of an eye, and yet you're just sitting here. If you don't want to tell me what happened, that's fine, but I'm not leaving you here like this.”

"And why shouldn't you?!" Bruce snapped, sneering at him. _Jason did. And I deserve it._ "Just go back to Blüdhaven. You wanted space from me, remember? You _quit._ You wanted your own city and now you have it so _leave._ ”

Dick was silent for a moment, trying to ignore how those words _burned_. Bruce would never say something like that, even if he was thinking it. Bruce understood, or Dick had _thought_ he had. Something was eating at Bruce, enough to make him emotionally compromised. Which...in itself was terrifying. He pulled a pick out of his gauntlet and knelt in front of Bruce, reaching for the cuffs to pop them open. Bruce wasn't going to get himself out so Dick would do it for him.

Bruce was trying so hard to push him away, make him leave so he wouldn't hurt him too. He couldn't do this to Dick too, he couldn’t sully him like this. How would it happen? Would it start if he looked too long? Would he break if he touched him? Jason was working hard to ruin himself, and Bruce just aided and abetted. He couldn't start Dick on that path too.

"No," he growled as Dick started working at his cuffs, jerked away. " _Leave._ I don't want your help.”

"Shocker," Dick answered flatly, grabbing Bruce's wrist with one hand and using the other to fiddle with the lock on the cuffs until it popped open. He unlatched the side attached to the desk and handed the cuffs to Bruce. "Come on, we're going home." Bruce could try and insist he didn't want his help, but each time he said it would just convince Dick that Bruce _needed_ his help. Whatever was going on, Bruce was breaking down, and it scared Dick.

Bruce bared his teeth like the feral dog he felt he now was (biting Jason and rutting into him and wanting to taste him--)

He ripped his wrist out of Dick’s hold and took the cuffs with a jerky motion, careful not to touch him -- (would Dick see? Was the evidence on his glove as obvious as it felt?) -- Bruce got to his feet, fixed the cuffs back into their compartment, let his cape close over his shoulders and front, hiding him, cloaking him in shadows.

He slipped out of the room without a word.

.x.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce's dirty little secret gets out. Dick tries to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUESS WHO GOT AN AO3 ACCOUNT! Jack, who writes Jason and (in this chapter) Dick is now [NocturnalWolfe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NocturnalWolfe/pseuds/NocturnalWolfe) on ao3. Yay! Anyway, enjoy our continued drama with the batfam. Side note: in this verse Dick and Roy are going out, though since it's not particularly relevant to this story we're leaving that bit out besides some future mentions or quick scenes.

.x.

Dick watched Bruce, following him out of the abandoned building, frowning. This was bad. Whatever happened here was bad, bad enough that Bruce had withdrawn _completely_ into himself. More so than Dick had ever seen. And it only convinced Dick he _needed_ to stay. Maybe he could help Bruce through this, even if he didn't know what _this_ was. He had to pull Bruce out of this before it killed him.

Bruce slipped out of the building without a word, not looking back, and attempted to get the Batmobile shut before Dick could join him but Nightwing was fast and determined, so Bruce just ground his teeth and gripped the steering wheel hard.

He drove a bit on the reckless side, though not as much as he would've if Dick wasn't in the car with him. But he did drive as fast as he could so he didn't have to be in an inclosed space with the young man for too long.

Dick didn't say anything on the way back. He was sure Bruce wasn't in the mood for talking anyway. He would have to look into whatever Bruce was working on, find out who he was chasing, and see if he could help at all. He had to get to the bottom of this, and he knew Bruce wouldn't tell him anything, so he had to figure it out himself.

Dick didn't attempt to fill the silence for once and Bruce was glad for it, even if he worried at any moment Dick would suddenly call him out. _You fucked him, did you? The kid you took in. Do you wanna fuck me too, Bruce? Is that why you took us in? Is that what you're going to do to Tim too?_

Bruce jerked to a stop inside the cave and jumped out, stalking over to the computer. He ripped his gloves off and threw them onto the floor, but kept his cowl on. He stood at the computer and started typing in updates on the case, declared the lead cold.

"Master Dick," Alfred greeted with a relieved smile as he saw Nightwing climb out. "What a lovely surprise. It's good to see you.”

Dick got out of the car and made his way over to Alfred, offering a warm smile. "You know me, Alfie, I just can't stay away." He was curious what Alfred knew about this, but didn't want to ask with Bruce around since he'd almost definitely shut them up. "How are you holding up without me?" he asked instead.

"Holding down the fort, as usual." He gave a worried glance to Bruce, then looked at Dick, knowing the younger man would read his concern perfectly. "Perhaps you will join us for dinner then, Master Dick."

Bruce didn't acknowledge either of them.

Dick nodded at Alfred, answering his unspoken concern, letting Alfred know that was why he'd come back. He was needed, even if Bruce refused to admit it.

"I would love to," he agreed. "Thanks for the invite.”

Alfred's shoulders relaxed and he gave a little nod. "Very good, sir. Master Bruce," he turned to him, took a few steps over and held out his arm pointedly. "I'll take your cowl and belt so you can go wash up as I fix dinner."

"No need."

" _Sir_ , Master Dick came all the way from Bludhaven through I'm sure deplorable traffic conditions to have dinner with us."

"Then he can eat and go _back_ to Bludhaven," Bruce snapped, and tensed as soon as the words left his mouth even before Alfred chided him with a sharp _sir!_ Bruce sighed, pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. " _Fine_." He ground out, and stalked off to the showers without looking at either of them.

Alfred let out a sigh and turned back to Dick. "I'm afraid he's been like this for nearly a month."

Even Dick was surprised at his response, and he frowned. He really was _determined_ to see Dick leave as soon as possible. He moved over to the computer once Bruce retreated to the showers. A month. Wasn't that around the time Red Hood first showed up? Maybe he was struggling to bring Hood down. But even that shouldn't have him so on edge like this, should it?

"Do you know what case he's working on?" he asked, looking at the notes Bruce had just entered into the computer. It made the most sense to him that it was probably the latest case Bruce was working on that had him all worked up like this. Dick just needed to figure out what it was, and what it was _about_ it that was making Bruce fall apart.

"The last time he returned like this was his last confrontation with... Red Hood,” Alfred frowned the name like it pained him, because it did. To think young Master Todd turned out like this, and the trials he went through. It was good to know he was alive, but with all the ordeals he went through in the time between... Alfred sometimes wondered if it wouldn't have been better for him to have stayed at peace.

Dick paused, frowning to himself. Red Hood. Bruce wouldn’t -- would he? It wouldn't be the first time. His thoughts flickered to Selina. Maybe he would...but what made him want to? Where was the temptation with this new villain? And why--

He looked at Alfred. He'd heard the pain in his voice when he said the name.

"I think he was with him again tonight," he said, watching Alfred for his reaction.

Alfred closed his eyes, looking as pained as he felt because he knew there was no reason to hide this. He nodded after a moment. "I suppose so sir, yes." He picked the gloves up off the ground to give himself something to do. "I suppose he's still not yet ready to come home…"

Dick's eyes narrowed at Alfred's words. Not ready to come home? What was _that_ supposed to mean? He knew he was missing something vital, and it made him mad. What was Bruce keeping from him?

"I imagine a bed would more comfortable than an abandoned office," he said, his tone gruff. Maybe he could have said so in nicer terms but he hated when Bruce kept him in the dark about something so seemingly important.

Alfred stiffened, rose in a slow, straight motion, and looked at Dick. "Pardon me, sir?”

That got a reaction out of Alfred, further confirming Dick was missing something vital about this. "I'm reasonably certain he's sleeping with Red Hood.”

Alfred's hand shot out to grasp the edge of the computer chair, legs buckling beneath him. _Sleeping?_ With _Jason?_ " _My word,_ " he whispered. "I... I believe I need to…"

The anger about the situation evaporated immediately and he shot to Alfred's side, putting a hand on his back, helping him into the chair. "Alfred, fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. What's wrong?"

Alfred gratefully let Dick settle him in the chair, still processing this new information. It made sense. The secrecy, the near _panicked_ edge to Bruce that truly didn't make sense. Pain, depression, regret, of course... but everything else made sense now.

Alfred blinked and looked at Dick, eyes wide. Dick was always so open and reactive, and this was certainly not the reaction he expected from him. " _Richard,_ " he started, "If it's true Master Bruce is sleeping with _Jason--_ " The name slipped out before he realized a key fact.

Dick didn't know

_Oh Bruce_ , Alfred thought mournfully. When would he stop hiding things from his own family?

Alfred looked at him like he was expecting something else, some bigger reaction that Dick didn't have, and then he spoke, said _Jason_.

Time slowed down as pieces started clicking into place. Red Hood had always seemed more knowledgeable about them than he should for being a new villain; Bruce had seemed too tense after the first time they fought; Alfred had looked pained when uttering the name. And if he was right, Bruce was sleeping with Jason, back from the dead.

His world came crashing down around him and his blood _boiled_. He looked over to the showers to see Bruce stepping out. He saw red.

"How. Fucking. _DARE YOU?_ " he shouted, dashing away from the chair at Bruce. There was enough distance between them that Bruce would be able to dodge any of his incoming attacks but he didn't care. He wanted to make Bruce _hurt_. How fucking _dare_ he keep this from him? How much of an asshole did he have to be?

Alfred shouted Dick’s name but it did no good. Bruce had slipped out of the showers looking as dour and tense as he had earlier, just clean now, hair slightly damp, dressed in a sweater and pressed pants. His head jerked up at Dick's shout, and his body reacted fast, dodging Dick easily and slipping around him to grab for his arms. But before Dick even had to squirm out of his grasp, Bruce jerked away as if burned, jumping back to put space between them again.

Dick snarled as Bruce grabbed him then immediately let him go. He'd reevaluate that after when he wasn't driven by his rage. "You son of a _bitch!_ " he shouted, turning and aiming an uppercut at Bruce's jaw.

Batman dodged again, grabbed Dick's wrist and swept his feet out from under him, flipping him over his shoulder. He wasn't sure what Dick was upset with him for this time, but his body easily switched to defensive fighting.

Dick grunted as he hit the ground, _glaring_ at Bruce. "You're an asshole," he spat, pushing to his feet and stalking back toward Alfred in the chair. He wanted to make Bruce _hurt_ but he knew he was fighting angry and that made him sloppy. He stopped halfway to the computer and spun back around. "What the _fuck_ is wrong with you? Did you really think I wouldn't find out? I didn't _deserve_ to know?”

Dick didn't land on his feet. Didn't roll and jump back up. It further proved he was fighting angry, which Bruce suspected but was worried about. Bruce relaxed his stance and turned to watch him, ever-present frown on his lips.

He tensed as Dick spun around, spat accusations at him. What exactly did he know? _What the fuck is wrong with you._ Bruce just tensed more. Those exact words he was afraid to hear from his family if they found out.

"He wasn't ready," Bruce offered. A poor excuse. "If you knew you'd go after him, drop everything else. You wouldn't do your job, and it would just end up pushing him away further.”

"BULL. _SHIT._ " It took all of Dick's control to keep from launching at him again. "You _know_ what it did to me when he died! He's been back for a _month_ and you never thought to mention?! How hard would it have been? 'Oh by the way your dead little brother is back.' Maybe I could have talked to him! Believe it or not, I know what it feels like to not want to rush back here on a whim. You don't _know_ what I would have done with the knowledge. You just wanted him all for _yourself_ , didn't you?" he spat.

" _Nightwing!_ " He barked in his Batman voice that brokered no arguments. "Enough! You're _angry_ and that's _fine._ I did what I thought best for _both_ of you. _Yes_ , Jason is back. He organized everything with Black Mask to get to the Joker, to get to _me._ He doesn't _want_ to talk. Go back to Bludhaven where you can do some good."

Normally that voice would have brought Dick pause, made him listen, but he was too angry. "Maybe he just doesn't want to talk _to you_ ," he snapped. Clearly, Jason would rather spend their time doing other things, talking didn't seem to be on his agenda. But maybe it would be different for Dick.

Bruce's eyes narrowed, but he didn't rise to that. Jason wanted something, but it certainly wasn't to talk, and it wasn't just... that, either. Bruce's walls came up hard, face completely shuttered, and he turned and started walking away again.

Dick grit his teeth. "Yeah, walk away, you can't hide from the truth, it always has a way of coming out."

Bruce's shoulders hunched further but he didn't turn around, just kept stalking off until he disappeared into the house.

"My word..." Alfred shook his head, put his face in his hands. "Master Dick, I'm so sorry, I thought you knew.”

Dick glared at Bruce's back until he was gone, but as soon as Alfred spoke, his expression softened. He moved to stand by the chair, putting a hand on the man's shoulder.

"It's not your fault Alfred. _He_ should have been the one to tell me. I really thought--" he cut off and heaved a sigh. "He's really back..." He didn't even want to ask how, he wasn't sure it mattered. "I want to try and draw him out. I want a chance to talk to him. He may not be ready to come home, but I just want to see him. Maybe he wants to see me too.”

"Do you really think that's a good idea, sir?" Alfred looked up at Dick, placed his hand on his. "Master Bruce has been..." He glanced over to where he left, then sighed. "Jason needs help. But he doesn't see that, and hurts those around him. Perhaps Master Bruce is right, you need to give him time to come to _you,_ lest you get hurt as well.”

Dick shook his head. "Bruce thinks I'm going to go and try to convince him of anything. I'm not gonna beg him to come home. Bruce has that covered, though he seems to be doing a _fantastic job_ of it. I just want to see him, for myself.”

Alfred sighed but nodded, but gripped his hand a little harder. "Dick... You have every right to be upset with him, but please understand Master Bruce was only doing what he thought might protect you. I... imagine that is also why he has been so curt with you this month as well.”

"I wouldn't be so sure about that Alfred. He seems to only have his own interests in mind right now. Well, he can keep cutting himself off from us, keep chasing after Jason, but I'm not going to just take it laying down.”

Alfred shook his head but knew it was no use arguing right now. Dick was angry and hurt, and wouldn't listen. "Just be careful.”

"I will," he agreed. He moved to lean against the computer, folding his arms over his chest. "What do you make of him and Jason?" he asked, curious how Alfred felt about it. Dick didn't know how _he_ felt about it yet, he was still trying to process that _Jason_ was _back_.

Alfred let out another sigh, sank a little bit into the chair, shaking his head. "I don't know. But your conclusion makes sense, the way Master Bruce has been acting."

"The evidence when I found him tonight was pretty strong. I didn't want to mention it because it wasn't my business, but when I found him he was handcuffed to a desk." He didn't have to say, they both know that Bruce could get out of that easily. "He looked defeated, I'd never seen him like that.”

"Oh dear..." he shook his head. Bruce handcuffed to a desk for sex was one thing, but looking defeated afterwards was entirely concerning. "I don't believe he's hurting Jason, though..." He steadied the chair and tapped Dick's thigh to get him out of the way of the console, bringing up various video feeds from the past few weeks, both of Batman's declining state and Red Hood's activities. "Master Jason appears to be doing... as well as one can suppose. Master Bruce is the one who is in steadily declining health.”

Dick moved out of the way, looking at the screen to watch the videos Alfred brought up. He was right, Jason seemed to be doing fine. Bruce, on the other hand, couldn't be doing _worse_. He thought it over, thinking of how Jason was when he was younger. After a long moment of thought, he laughed.

"Jason's doing fine, because he's wanted this for years," he said. "Not that I blame him, Bruce could turn any straight man gay.”

Alfred let out a sigh. "Not that I could think that Bruce could ever do something..." Like force himself on anyone, let alone his old ward. "It is a relief. And it rings true." He looked over at Dick, raising a brow. "I recall overhearing _your_ fantasies on a few occasions, Master Dick. Master Tim's, as well, and indeed... Master Jason's own, when he was Robin." His lips quirked. "A lively bunch of boys, you are.”

Dick shrugged, looking decidedly _unashamed_. "He brings a bunch of teenage boys home, wears _very_ form-fitting outfits, and expects said horny teens to _not_ react to that? None of us ever expected to get that kind of attention from him, but it was nice to think about. I gotta say, I'm a little jealous Jason went for it and _succeeded_." Not that he wanted Bruce anymore, he'd moved on since then, but it made him wonder; if he'd tried before, if he'd made a move on Bruce, would Bruce have given him what he wanted?

Alfred's smile slowly dimmed, and he looked back at the screen. "I'm sure Master Bruce is not as accepting about this development…"

Dick frowned, taking that into consideration. He tried to put himself in Bruce's shoes. The orphan he adopted off the streets and mentored suddenly showed a _different_ kind of interest than Bruce would expect, and Bruce gave in to the desire. Jason may not be his actual son, but he knew Bruce thought of him, of all of them, as his sons. So...no, Bruce would be very reluctant to accept this. He probably didn't even realize _just_ how long Jason's wanted him. Bruce was probably too focused on the disgust he felt for himself to realize how Jason felt.

He remembered how Bruce had grabbed him instinctively, then let him go like he'd burned him, and something else clicked into place.

"Oh god--" he whispered. It suddenly made _perfect_ sense why Bruce continuously insisted he stay in Bludhaven, why he made sure Tim stayed far away from Gotham with the Titans. He smacked a hand to his forehead. "Oh my _god_.”

Alfred looked up at him, frowning. "Sir?"

"He's interested in Jason, that much is obvious if he's given in to him twice," he explained. If Bruce didn't want it, he would have turned Jason down. "He's disgusted with himself, that's why he's breaking down. He's afraid of what this means." It was easier to think like Bruce nowadays, to get into his head even if he didn't _like_ going down that dark path. "He's afraid that if he spends too much time around me or Tim, he'll find out he wants us too. You said it yourself, you didn't think Bruce was capable of this. Neither did he. Now he's afraid he can't stop.”

Alfred nodded, because he had thought as much, but hearing Dick say it aloud was still... there was no real word to put to it. "As I said sir, for all his faults, Master Bruce is only trying to protect you, and everyone else he loves. He hasn't even made contact with the Red Hood since that night until today, though Master Jason has given _Batman_ every reason to confront him head on." He sighed again, shaking his head slowly. "Poor Master Bruce.”

Dick shook his head. "He still should have _told_ me he was back. Whatever's going on between him and Jason, he should have told me." He still remembered how he felt when he'd found out Jason had died, how he'd wanted to go after the Joker make him _suffer_ for what he did. If he'd been in Gotham when he found out, and not halfway around the world, nothing would have stopped him from gutting the Joker alive. And Bruce had known this, so why would choose to keep this from him?

"And how would _you_ have brought up that conversation, sir?" Alfred raised a brow. "Knowing what we do.”

Dick paused, thought it over. "I probably would have been blunt with it. There's no delicate way to handle that, but I wouldn't have waited a _month_ , just waiting for the news to come out all on it's own.”

"Which would no doubt lead to further questions about the events surrounding them, including their... sexual exploits. Truly, I don't think _any_ of us are or were ready for that conversation.”

"I can't imagine how that would lead to Bruce admitting he slept with Jason. It wouldn't be hard to say that Jason slipped away when he had his guard down. I wouldn't have questioned that, seeing Jason back from the dead would have made _me_ drop my guard too." He shrugged, too tired to argue the point anymore. "He's going to keep avoiding me and Tim because of this.”

Alfred nodded, frowning. "I believe so, sir. Until..." he looked back at the screen, frowning. There were so many variables. And if Bruce kept reacting the way he was at this pace... there wasn't much time for the _until_.

Alfred didn't have to finish, Dick knew what he meant. "I need to talk to him," he said, moving for the stairs. He couldn't fix the situation with Jason, he couldn't even _touch_ on that. That was something Bruce needed to work out with Jason. He could, however, fix Bruce's insane fear that he was going to end up wanting him and Tim, that now that he had a taste for one, he'd want them all.

Alfred nodded. "Good luck, sir."

Bruce, meanwhile, was up in the manor, leaning against his forearm pressed against one of the many huge windows that overlooked the grounds. This window had a view of the graveyard, where he could still see Jason's dug-up grave in the distance.

Dick found Bruce looking out over the graveyard and frowned, coming up behind him, but stopping half a dozen feet away. "We need to talk, Bruce.”

Bruce didn't look at him. "If you're here to punch me again, we'd better go downstairs. You know how Alfred gets if we break something up here.”

"I'm here to-" To what? Argue? Convince? "I know why you've been avoiding me," he settled with instead. The truth had a way of coming out, just like he'd said.

Bruce tensed visibly, then turned his head just enough to glance at him, eyes narrowed, taking in the fact Dick was still in his suit. "Go back downstairs. You know Alfred's rules about suits in the manor.”

"Stop trying to distract me Bruce, you can't _ignore_ this. You can't ignore _me_ forever." Besides, Alfred hadn't said anything when Dick went to leave.

"I'm not _ignoring you_ , Dick," Bruce said sharply, finally turning to face him, but moving no closer. He crossed his arms over his chest. "What do you want?”

Dick could've proven he was, but Bruce turned around to finally face him, so Dick took the chance to talk. Or-- not talk. "Like I said, I know why you're avoiding me," he said, moving closer to Bruce. "And I want to prove you wrong.”

Panic shot through him, and he was too weak and tired and _fresh_ from having _fucked_ Jason, that he couldn't keep it off his face. He backed up, found the window at his back. "I don't know what you're talking about, Dick.”

Dick could see the panic on Bruce's face, the way he backed up, and it only made him more determined to do this. Bruce needed to face this or he'd run from it forever. He didn't stop, moved forward until he was standing in front of Bruce. "I swear to god if you punch me I'm going to kick your ass," he warned before grabbing Bruce by the front of his shirt and yanking him into a hard kiss.

Cold trickled down Bruce’s spine, a clammy feeling prickling over his skin as Dick came closer, too close, closed the distance between them before Bruce could react. "Dick--"

His gasp was muffled by Dick's — by Dick's mouth. On his. Bruce's hands shot up and froze, uncertain what to do. The kiss was hard, bruising even, but not terribly deep or biting or arousing--

Bruce grabbed Dick's biceps and shoved him to arm's length away, mind still racing too fast to be angry yet.

Dick let Bruce push him away, watched him carefully, trying to determine if anything in his expression indicated he was interested in more, indicated he'd felt _anything_ from it. It was the whole point of the test, to find out one way or another whether Bruce had anything to be worried about.

Bruce searched himself, felt himself being watched, and refocused on _Dick_ , searched _him_. His boy looked calculating, determined. Bruce's hand lifted as if to cup his jaw, but stopped before he did. "Can I--" he started softly, almost meekly if that were a word one could ever use with him. 

He needed to be sure.

Dick didn't move when Bruce lifted a hand, his eyes shifting to more _curious_ when Bruce asked for permission. He gave a nod, but didn't say anything. Bruce needed to figure himself out, and Dick was happy to help.

Bruce looked supremely uncomfortable with what he was about to do, but his gaze darted over Dick's face with curiosity, with hope, and he had to know, and Dick was allowing it, so... so he cupped his jaw, dipped in for another kiss, a gentle press of lips. He swept his tongue along the seam of his lips, and found he... he didn't want a further taste. Didn't need it. He didn't exactly _mind_ kissing him, likely the way Dick didn't mind kissing him, but he didn't feel that rush, that need to explore and taste and claim every bit of him.

Bruce slowly pulled back, watched him for a moment, before he finally just... broke. He relaxed so hard he nearly collapsed, a breath punched out of him something like a hysteric laugh, and that not-laugh gasp came again and he cupped Dick's face, _smiling_ at him. He kissed him on the lips again but it was chaste, familial, and then he kissed his forehead, and his cheek, and his other cheek and his lips again and _still_ that was all, he just _loved_ Dick, nothing more complicated than that.

"I love you," he breathed, an admission so rarely spoken, one he wished he could offer more. Every inch of his expression was simply _relieved._ He let his arms wrap tight around his first son, let a little of his weight settle against him. "I love you. I don't _want_ you.”

Dick felt the tongue brush his lips, but didn't open up, didn't offer that access, and Bruce quickly showed he didn't want it. Dick could see the relief etched deep in Bruce's expression, his entire _body_ , as he realized that, no, he didn't want Dick the way he seemed to want Jason. There was no burning desire between them, and Dick was relieved as well. He'd been worried, for a moment, that Bruce would have leaned the other way, would have wanted him after all, and that would have opened up another sea of problems. At least with this, Bruce could rest easy knowing that whatever snapped in his mind that made him want Jason, didn't mean he also wanted Dick.

He laughed as Bruce kissed him several more times, all over his face, and then again on his lips. He easily supported Bruce's weight as he leaned against him, wrapping his arms around the man in return.

" _Good_ ," he said. "Now you can stop treating me like I'm contagious with something, and let me _stay_." _Stop trying to send me back to Bludhaven when you clearly need me, you idiot_. He chose against saying that, though.

Dick's laughter filled him with warmth, the same exact kind he'd felt years ago when Dick was just a boy and filling these halls with a brightness they'd never seen.

"Yes, all right," he allowed, still holding him tight, too relieved to argue. "Dick..." he finally pulled back, searched his face, offered another small smile. "Thank you.”

Dick smiled, keeping his arms around Bruce until the man pulled back. "No problem, Bruce," he said. "I couldn't have you withdrawing from everyone who might be able to help you." He couldn't let Bruce hide from this, it would kill him. He still had to deal with Jason, but at least he didn't have to fear this anymore.

.x.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A deleted scene between this and the next chapter is Dick returning to his flat and then awkwardly explaining Red Hood's identity to Roy and then admitting he just kissed Bruce, after which Roy was "devastated" that Dick would "cheat on him" like that, so of course Dick made it up to him by giving him a blow job.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick draws Jason out for some answers, and hugs. Bruce is both upset and grateful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We switched things up a bit here. This chapter I (ellfie) wrote Dick for the first half, and then Bruce in the second. NocturnalWolfe wrote Jason first and then Dick in the second half.
> 
> Thank you all for the kind reviews!! They're so warming! We have a few things planned out for the story, but a lot we're playing by ear because our muses constantly take the reins away from us. But if there's a specific thing you'd like to see us explore (such as, someone suggested top!Jason, and don't you worry, we already planned that), let us know!

.x.

Dick listened to Alfred's advice and waited Jason out. He stayed in Gotham, made his presence known, and opened himself up so Jason could easily find him. He lingered while on patrol at spots he and Jason used to hang out when he was Robin -- a particular rooftop with a water tower and great vantage point across from Wayne Tower; the fire escape of one of their old hide-outs; their favorite gargoyles. During the day he visited the diner he used to treat Jason to, ordered their old favourites — milkshakes and chili cheese fries —and got a lot of depression looks from the people there who assumed his date blew him of. Which… was somewhat true.

Bruce had stopped trying to push Dick away (any more than usual) but that didn't mean he was.... completely better. Whatever was going on with him and Jason was completely wrecking him, and it seemed like Bruce didn't know whether he wanted to confront him at every possible turn, or avoid him til the end of days.

One thing was for sure -- Jason _wasn't_ coming to Dick.

So he switched tactics.

One night, after Bruce finished patrol and went back to the manor to work on things, Nightwing went to the bat signal. He'd already warned Alfred what he was going to do so they set it up so Bruce wouldn't get the alert.

Dick switch the bat signal to red, likely worrying half of Gotham, and waited.

Jason knew Nightwing was around. He made no effort to hide himself. In fact, it almost seemed to Jason like Dick was _trying_ to call him out, to summon him like he was some dog that he'd lost.

Jason was careful to avoid everywhere Dick might show up. He wasn't sure he was ready to face the old Robin. He wasn't sure that was a conversation he wanted to have yet. He would go seek Dick out, eventually, but not now.

And then Dick got proactive. Jason saw the bat signal go up and knew what he was playing at. But it was genius, and Jason couldn't resist. How could he? Dick was actively calling him. So he got suited up and made his way to the GCPD. He stopped a couple buildings away, and, sure enough, saw Nightwing waiting by the signal. He had hacked into Bruce's comms already, so it was simple to tap into Dick's comms.

"Really, Goldie?"

Dick _lit up_ when he heard Jason's voice, deepened with age and gruff with likely annoyance. "I had to get your attention somehow. And look, it worked!" He scanned the rooftops for the missing bird and shut off the bad signal, but didn't try to leave the roof yet. "Do I get to see you, too?"

Jason rolled his eyes. Yeah, it worked, and he hated how pleased Dick sounded about that. "That depends, are you going to beg me to come home like the old man does?"

"That seems counter productive, so no." He kept scanning the rooftops, frowning. Jason had a good hiding spot, wherever it was. He knew he was close though. He muted the comm a second to take a breath, center himself, because it seemed like playing light and casual would do best here, and not the way he wanted to -- which was to beg him to come close enough to see him at least, to hug him, to apologize for not being there, for not knowing, to let just how much he'd _missed_ him, how _wrecked_ he'd been over his death flow over and out.

No, that would be too much for Jason. It would just push him away further.

"C'mon, Jay," he whined instead, much like he used to when they were both younger. "Besides, you owe me. You got my leg banged up last month. Don't you wanna see how it's doing?"

Jason squinted a bit, not sure he trusted that answer. He still didn't show himself. There was a pause, then Dick spoke again. He snorted.

"You seem to be standing just fine from where I'm standing," he said. He didn't really regret it. Dick was tough, and he seemed to be doing fine now.

 "Aww, c'mon," he turned to keep scanning the rooftops, switching the visuals in his mask a few times to try and spot Jason. "Maybe you wanna come over here and sprain it again? You always did enjoy a good spar. Or rather, showing me up every chance you got. I hear you're taller than me now. Gotta say, I don't believe it til I can measure it myself."

 Jason laughed. "You make a tempting offer Goldie, but nothing you say will convince me to willingly land on top of the police department." Instead he stepped forward, putting himself in Dick's line of sight. 

Dick caught the movement instantly and his entire body tensed, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly why. "I'll give you that. I'm coming over to you then, okay?" He knew Jason stepping into sight was already the invitation, but... he didn't want to spook him. He moved to the edge of the roof, readied his grapple.

"Isn't that what you were already planning on doing?" he pointed out. He stepped back from the edge, waiting for Dick to join him on the rooftop.

"Just giving you the warning," Dick hummed, but didn't shoot out his grapple until he saw Jason -- Red Hood -- step back. He swung up to the roof in no time, landing lightly and taking just a few steps forwards so he wasn't right at the edge. He stared at Jason, that sleek red helmet, and wondered if this was how Bruce felt when he was close to him: heart uncertain whether to plummet or jump to his throat. _God_ he wanted to hug him.

"C'mon, Jay..." he said softly. "Do you really need that helmet?" He managed a soft laugh and smirk. "Promise I won't punch you."

He supposed Dick was right. Bruce had seen his face, why shouldn't Dick see him too? That seemed to be why he was here after all. He was still waiting for Dick to start insisting he come home. This meeting would be ending real quick if he tried.

"You know,” he said casually as he lifted his hands, reaching for the helmet, "all of Gotham is going to have seen that red signal you lit, there's going to be hell." He popped the release on the helmet and pulled it off.

Dick shrugged like it didn't matter, which it really didn't compared to getting to see and talk to his dead little brother again. As Jason removed the helmet, Dick's eyes darted over his face, tracking all the changes, how he finally fit that jaw and those shoulders, how his body had thickened and strengthened closer to brute than gymnast. He could certainly understand why Bruce would be attracted to him. He also had a curious tuft of white in cute helmet-ruffled curls falling over his forehead.

Dick took a few steps closer. Instead of saying _Jesus, Jay_ and _look at you_ and _it's so good to see you_ , Dick swallowed that all and put on a pout. "Damn it, you _are_ taller than me."

Jason watched the emotions flicker across Dick's expression. Dick had always been expressive, had a hard time hiding how he felt. He tensed as Dick got closer, fighting the urge to step back and keep distance between them. Still, he smirked at his words. "How's it feel?" he asked. "The little bird you lost is back and taller than you."

Dick couldn't help the little smile, though his laugh was a little strained with emotion. "That's really rude of you, little wing." He opened his arms a little bit. "Maybe I can hug you back down to a good solid 5'9''."

Jason shook his head. "Nice try, but I'm not getting close enough for you to plant a tracker on me," he said. He didn't believe for a second Dick wasn't here on Bruce's behalf, to try and get him to come back to the manor.

Dick sighed, pouted, but didn't lower his hands. "I wouldn't do that, Jay..." he frowned a little. "Okay, I might, but I _won't_." He slowly lowered his hands, let his tone shift to something more serious. "Little wing, of course I want you to come home, but I get it. I still don't feel like I can always call the manor home. I'm not going to force you into anything. I just wanted to see you. So you know you're not alone."

He lifted his arms again, put on a pout, wiggled his fingers. "So get over here and hug me, damn it."

"And I'm just supposed to trust you?" He wasn't at all convinced Dick wasn't just telling him what he thought he wanted to hear, coming up with some 'I can relate' bull shit to get him to let his guard down.

_Yes,_ Dick wanted to say, but held back. He frowned and let his arms drop again. "Jay," he huffed. "You really think you wouldn't find this theoretical tracker within five minutes of me planting it?"

Jason still wasn't sure he wanted to get anywhere close enough to give Dick the chance to try, but he also knew how stubborn Dick was. He could just leave and let that be that. Dick had seen him, that should be enough. Besides, he'd never really been a _hugger_.

"You plant a tracker on me, and I find it, I will shoot you," he warned, though didn’t move any closer.

Dick grinned, raised his arms again. "Agreed!"

Jason thought he sounded a little too chipper at the threat of being _shot_ , but maybe that was just...Dick. He still didn't move closer, and wondered how long it would take Dick to break and close the distance first.

Dick stayed still, arms out, waiting patiently. He figured it would be easier for Jason to make the first move, but when that clearly wasn't happening he let out a sigh. "All right, big guy." He said softly, fondly, and moved closer -- slowly, and keeping his body language at ease, then finally wrapped his arms around him. He gave Jason a second to get used to it before he tucked his face down against his neck.

_Jesus_. He had to stay in control, not let his emotions run away this time and chase Jason away. But... god _damn._ He really was here. Alive. Maybe not well, but _here._ "Will you shoot me if I tell you how much I missed you, little wing?" He whispered. _We all still love you. We never stopped, and never will stop._ He wished Jason understood that, and would listen to it if he said as much. But he knew Jason well enough to know he’d just shut down at such words.

Jason tried not to tense. He knew this was coming, Dick made no secret that's what he wanted, but still, it was the most physical contact he'd had aside from--

"I might if you keep calling me little wing," he answered. It took a moment, but then he gave in and wrapped his arms around Dick in return. Despite all his anger about...well, everything, he had missed Dick. He'd go back to being angry in a second, he wanted to enjoy this moment while it lasted.

Dick _smiled_ , absorbed the moment, knowing it would probably be a while before he got another one, and held Jason just a little tighter. "All right, Jaybird."

Jason sighed. That wasn't really any better but Dick would just keep trying until he found one he liked, so he let it go. For a second, with as tight as Dick was holding him, he could believe that Dick actually cared, had actually missed him.

"You've been taking care of yourself, right?" Dick asked softly, pulling back only enough to look at him. "You good on supplies? I can't get ya bullets but I can get you pretty much anything else."

Jason huffed, pulling away from the embrace and backing up, putting some space between them. Dick _had_ to go and ruin it by talking, didn't he? Of course he did, always a motor mouth.

"I don't need you to mother-hen me, Goldie. I'm not a child."

"I never said you were," Dick pouted, but let him put space between them. "And for the record, I mother-hen everyone." He paused. He didn't want to chase Jason off but... but this was why he came in the first place. "I've been mother-henning Bruce pretty hard recently."

"And I give a fuck, _why?_ " He knew Dick's protective nature was ridiculously strong. He was absolutely right, he mother-henned _everyone_. But that didn't mean Jason wanted it.

Dick sighed. This would be the real fun part of their conversation. "Because you're sleeping with him, and it's killing him slowly, Jay. Look -- I get you're angry, you want to hurt us -- him -- but -- like _this_ , Jay?"

Jason went rigid, jaw tightening and hands itching to grab his gun. "So that's why you're here, to tell me to back off, right? Well, you can go to hell. You don't know what you're talking about." He turned to walk away.

"Tim's hardly allowed in the manor anymore--" Dick immediately started, shifting towards Jason. "Bruce pushes me away at _every_ step. He doesn't want either of us in Gotham at all, because he's afraid since he slept with you he's going to _snap_ and fuck me and Tim too. It's _killing_ him, Jason. Why are you doing this? I know you don't want him dead, Jay, so why are you letting him do this to himself? Are you -- are you--" he couldn't say it, because he didn't really believe it. _Are you raping him?_ Whatever was going on, he knew at key moments Bruce wanted it too, still wanted it, but that didn't mean it wasn't wrecking him.

In truth, Jason didn't really care how this was affecting Bruce's relationship with Drake or Dick. He spun, pulling his gun and aiming it right between Dick's eyes, anger etched into his features.

"You think I give a _damn_ about that _replacement_?" he snapped. "Or you? Bruce won't let you guys stay at the manor anymore, _boohoo_ , cry me a fucking river. From what I hear, you've made your own way in Bludhaven, so why are you even here? And isn't the replacement off with the Titans? Seems like a _non-issue_ to me." Not that it mattered to him at all. "You better walk away Nightwing," he warned. "My trigger finger's really itchin'."

"You're missing the point, Jay," Dick said slowly, quietly, palms up. "This isn't about me or Tim. I'm talking about _Bruce._ What's going on between you two?"

"Do you _ever_ mind your own business? This doesn't concern you, _walk away,_ " he growled, finger tightening ever-so-slightly on the trigger.

Dick tightened his jaw, eyed the gun. "You're hurting him, Jay. And I don't think you mean to." He took a step backwards. "Just think about it, please. And let me know if you need something. Anything." He took another step back, so even though his words might be pushing it, at least he was physically stepping away. Hopefully that would even things out. "You don't even have to see me. Just take it from any of my safe houses if you need to, okay?"

Jason's finger loosened on the trigger as Dick backed away. He would ignore the offer for help, he didn't _want_ Dick's help. He holstered the gun and turned to leave again, not saying anything else to Dick. Dick had said he was hurting Bruce. Dick, unfortunately, was right about one thing. He didn't want to hurt Bruce. He'd wanted to make him suffer at first, but not quite like this. His plan to make Bruce hurt had directly involved the Joker, and had failed. This...whatever _this_ was between them, this wasn't supposed to be tearing Bruce apart.

He needed to fix this. As soon as possible.

 

.x.

 

Early the next morning, as news flowed back unhindered to the cave, Bruce thought today might finally be the day he'd pop a blood vessel. 

Dick would receive two texts, hacked to make sure it sounded whether or not his phone was on silent.

Dick groaned when he heard his phone go off. He'd just settled down with Roy, was on the edge of sleep when it went off. He rolled over to grab his phone off the nightstand, looking at the texts.

[B:  _Cave._ ]

[B: ** _Now._** ]

"Uh oh." It was amazing how fast the sleepiness slipped away. There was so much anger behind those words, he already knew. And he was pretty sure he knew what it was _about_ , too.

Roy jumped at the sound as it tugged him from sleep, but he settled when he felt Dick still at his side, fiddling around on his phone. "Wuzzit?" He grumbled, blinking at him.

"Bruce is mad," he said, showing Roy the text. "Pretty sure it's about last night's...stunt." He sat up, wondering if he should bother texting back or just make his way over there.

Roy shifted to read it. Blinked. "Oh shit." He watched as Dick sat up, then grumbled and rolled over onto his stomach, throwing his arm over Dick's thighs. "Can I have your bike when he kills you?"

Dick chuckled and rubbed his arm. "I don't trust anyone else to take care of it like you would," he answered, lifting Roy's arm and sliding out of bed. "I'll be back soon. Maybe."

"Have fun," Roy hummed, rolled over, and fell back a sleep. 

Dick got dressed and headed out. It didn't take him long before he was standing in front of the manor. He sighed, already dreading this conversation, and headed inside.

"Sir," Alfred greeted Dick as he walked past, a grimace on his face. "He's downstairs. Do be careful. I spoke on your behalf, but... you know how he is."

Dick gave a nod to Alfred. "Thanks for trying Alfie." If _Alfred_ looked that bothered and _warned_ him about Bruce, this wasn't going to be good. He paused in front of the clock, adjusting the time and letting it slide open, but he hesitated, took a deep breath, then headed down the stairs.

Bruce was at the bat computer, multi-tasking as usual but primarily running damage control over last night. He'd already called Jim to tell him it was a play to draw out Red Hood, not anything more cryptic or concerning, the man was clearly relieved and doing what he could from his end. The best thing to do was wait until it was dark and make his presence fully and well known.

He was dressed in jogging pants and a soft sweater, the former forced upon him when he went shirtless to the cave, Alfred refusing to let him "catch his death."

He heard Dick coming but didn't turn around. "Do you have _any_ idea the trouble you caused?"

Dick shrugged. "Not especially but I'm sure you're about to tell me." He hadn't checked the news this morning, _for_ that very reason. He'd known it would cause problems, but he didn't really want to see _how bad._

Bruce pressed a button and news reports and twitter feeds and viral videos and headlines popped up over every single computer screen, voices overlapping in pandemonium. Every one talking about what the red bat symbol in the sky could mean, if Batman was dead or missing, if this was some new threat tampering with their beloved bat signal, if this was some political move -- and so on.

After a moment, he muted it, and turned his chair around to glare at Dick. "All of this, after I told you _not_ to go after Jason _in the first place._ "

Dick frowned as the news feeds covered the screens. It was worse than he thought. He was sure Bruce could handle it, but _damn_.

"I had to see him Bruce. I know you live keeping everything at arm's length but _I don't_. I tried to get him to come to me, and nothing worked, so I got more proactive."

Bruce growled and rose from his chair, stalking closer to Dick. "That was stupid, selfish, and careless. If Jason wanted to see you, he would've found you, and if he didn't, you should have _let him be._ You're screwing up our chances at getting him home by trying to chase him like a lost dog. And in being so short-sighted, you've put half of Gotham in _chaos._ "

Dick didn't back down, clenching his fists and glaring up at Bruce. "If he _really_ didn't want to see me, he wouldn't have shown up last night." So what if Jason held a gun to his head. They had a moment, however brief, to be close. "I didn't go to insist he come home, I went to let him know he's not alone and let him know how much he was missed. Have _you_ even told him that, or were you too busy fucking his brains out?" Whoops, maybe he shouldn't have said that.

Bruce froze when he said Jason showed up. He knew he must've, having seen the footage of Dick at the bat signal and then talking to someone over his comms and disappearing, but whatever happened after that was out of sight of any camera. His gaze darted over Dick, finding no injuries either.

But then Dick ran his mouth and Bruce's eyes narrowed dangerously, teeth clenched, and his twitched like he was going to _punch_ Dick. He almost did, but restrained himself at the last moment.

"You went against direct orders," he growled instead. "My city, my rules. If you can't follow them, then get out."

The problem was -- he _hadn't_ told Jason any of that. He wanted to, desperately, but the words always either got stuck in his throat or the timing seemed wrong. He knew Jason didn't want to hear it, and any time he ever got close to saying anything honest and heartfelt, Jason shut down.

He noticed Bruce's hand twitch, and he braced himself for the strike that, surprisingly, didn't come. But then Bruce was back to barking orders and Dick glared daggers.

"I guess that answers that," he said, his tone hard. " _Someone_ had to tell him that his death actually mattered, and it clearly wasn't going to be you. I'm not going anywhere. If Jason decides he needs help, I want him to know I'm here for him."

The thing was, Bruce was actually _glad_ Dick seemed to have gotten through to Jason, because he was right. Someone had to tell him all that. Jason had to know more people cared than just Bruce, more people wanted him safe. That maybe it was easier to go to Dick for help if he needed it than facing Bruce and... everything between them.

Bruce turned around and sat back in his chair, going back to the computer. "I have to do damage control." He cast him one last glare. "Do _not_ do this again."

"Fine," he snapped, heading for the stairs. He wouldn't do this again, he'd never planned to do it more than once, but he was still angry that Bruce seemed to be trying so hard to keep him away from Jason.

Bruce almost let him go, let them both seethe in anger the way they'd gotten so good at over the years, even if they had overcome most of it. 

But...

"Dick?" He called, voice rough, but not snapping or growling or accusing.

Dick paused at the bottom of the stairs, almost expecting more anger, but he didn't...sound angry. He glanced back.

"Yeah?"

Bruce stopped typing. Stretched out his fingers. Clenched them. His voice was low, quiet, but he knew Dick would hear him. "How is he doing?"

"All things considered, he...seems fine. I mean, he aimed a gun at my head but he doesn't seem to be in any really bad state." _He's not killing himself like you are._ He wasn't sure if that was what Bruce wanted to hear, or if he had any right to say it, so he kept it to himself, for now.

Bruce nodded slowly. He looked over at Dick, eyes tracking over his form again, reassuring himself. No mark on him. "He didn't hurt you?"

Dick shook his head. "No, he was just trying to scare me off. I don't think he actually wanted to hurt me. He...he even hugged me. I mean I had to hug him first but he actually hugged me back."

God. He was pathetic wasn't he? A wave of jealousy swept over him at the mention of Jason hugging Dick. He had kissed Jason, and touched Jason, and held Jason down and _fucked_ him -- and yet he was burning with jealousy over the simple act of Dick hugging him, and Jason _hugging him back._

He nodded and turned back to the computer so Dick wouldn't see any reaction from him. He was happy for them. He knew Dick needed that hug, as did Jason, and was glad they could both get it. And who was he to complain? He was the one with _his cock up his ass--_

Bruce hunched over the desk, head in his hands.

_What was he doing?_

Bruce turned away, didn't say anything, and Dick frowned. He stepped closer, reached out to put a hand on Bruce's shoulder, suddenly concerned all over again.

"Hey...you okay?" he asked quietly.

Bruce tensed under the touch, but relaxed with no small amount of effort.

"This has to stop," he whispered. "We -- _I_ can't keep doing this. It isn't right."

"Bruce...he's not killing himself over this like you are." He'd seen the videos, he'd _gone up against_ him, and last night, seeing Jason face to face, he didn't seem that torn up over it. He didn't think Jason was in any bad shape over it. Not like Bruce was.

Bruce shook his head. "It doesn't matter. He's a child. He's my responsibility. I _know_ better, so I need to _stop_ this."

"He's not a child anymore, Bruce. Not any more than I am." And he wasn't sure Jason would _let_ Bruce stop anyway. Not with how he reacted to Dick trying to talk him out of it the night before.

"That doesn't mean I should _fuck him!_ " Bruce snapped, banging his fist against the desk, gritting his teeth. "He needs _help._ Not... this." He shook his head. "This is all some game to him, some set up. It's been like this from the start. He masterfully set up all his pieces and watched them fall right into place, until I refused to kill the Joker. So now he's come up with another strategy, another end game.”

Dick didn't say anything for a moment. Maybe it was all just some game to Jason, was that why he insisted the night before that Dick stay out of it? He didn't want to drag Dick into the game, it wasn't about him. But Jason...he wouldn't do that, would he? He may have changed after what happened, but he wouldn't go _this_ far...would he? What would be the end goal? Having Bruce under his thumb until...until Bruce got so torn up over it it killed him.

"Do you think he's capable of that?"

"Of course he is," Bruce said lowly. "He's brilliant, stubborn, and angry. He's been trained by me, and many more experts if he's this good after being off the radar for so long. He took over most of Gotham's underworld under twelve hours and set the rest on edge within a day. He manipulated the players in his game to get exactly what he wanted to the point of getting _Joker_ out of _Arkham_ in just a few days. Whatever his goal is, he will reach it. Unless we stop him.”

Dick frowned. That wasn't what he asked. Sure, Jason was _capable_ , he had the skills and the means to pull it off, but that wasn't what he was asking.

"That's not what I meant, Bruce," he said.

Bruce paused, glanced up at Dick, then back to the screen. "He's been gone a long time," he said softly. "We don't even know the extent of the trauma. He's angry. Hurt. Has already killed. There's no reason _not_ to believe he's capable of anything."

Dick couldn't believe it. _Refused_ to believe Jason was capable of something so heinous. He didn't want to think Jason was only in this to ruin Bruce, and keep ruining him until Bruce killed himself over it. "I hope you're wrong," he said quietly.

Bruce was silent for a long moment before he finally let out a breath. "Me too."

Dick squeezed Bruce's shoulder, attempting to comfort him. "I hope...in the end, everything turns out okay." That was all he could do at this point. He'd already tried to talk Jason out of this path, and Jason hadn't acted all that keen to see him, he doubt he would get another chance any time soon.

Bruce shut his eyes tight, and, after a moment’s hesitation, placed his hand over Dick’s, repeating softly, “Me too.”

.x.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, Jason crawls through Bruce's window for some more fun. But fair warning, right now we've only written about half of it, so chapter updates will be sporadic as we both have to work around our dumb adult schedules.


	5. Chapter 5

.x.

It had been a long day and night, so much so Bruce had to turn in early. He had several board meetings to attend that were a mess and then both day and night’s work of fixing the mess Dick had made, all the while keeping an eye out for Jason. Finally, his weeks of stress and loss of weight and struggle to heal caused him to slip and fall off a ledge, catching himself only at the last moment. It was too close of a call. It wasn't like him.

So he headed back early, much to Alfred's surprise and delight, accepted cream and ice for his still healing bruises and actually made sure to eat, then retired to his too-big bed, staring at the wall. He was weary, but not tired. He couldn't stop his mind from rolling over every possibility, every mistake, every case, every sound Jason made -- he shut his eyes tight.

Something had to give. It was a relief to know he wasn't a risk to Dick or Tim, but... The stress of still _wanting_ Jason, a boy he took in, the stress of knowing this was just some game of Jason's. He was never going to come home. He was just going to keep destroying Gotham's underworld, and his family along with it.

Jason hated it, hated to admit that Dick's words had gotten to him, hated to acknowledge that he was listening to that goodie two shoes. But he didn't want to hurt Bruce, Dick had been right about that. Dick had told him to stop, but Jason had no intention of doing so. He had another idea that he hoped would work better.

And so, in the middle of the night, he found himself hanging onto Bruce's windowsill, peering through the window and seeing Bruce laying in his bed. He tapped on the glass and waited for the man to let him in. Sure, he could let _himself_ in, but he didn't want to give Bruce a heart attack.

Bruce froze at the tap, paused a moment to take in the sounds, the shapes of the shadows,listening to his instincts about how he should react.

In an easy, fluid movement he rolled over and sat up, eyes narrowed as he considered the window, and who was waiting outside it. His chest constricted, heart leapt and didn't seem to know how to beat properly.

Bruce pushed to his feet, coming over to the window as if in a dream. He opened the window and let his eyes dance over Jason's form, expression not exactly open but certainly softened with surprise. "Jason..."

Jason pulled himself up onto the windowsill, crouching on it, somewhat amused at how that made him a little taller than Bruce. His eyes, hidden by his helmet, were free to explore Bruce's body, and arousal flared in his gut at just how much of Bruce was exposed, the man in nothing but tight black boxers. And, of course, he could _see_ the damage he'd done. Maybe it wasn't so obvious to those not that close with Bruce, but Jason could see the weight he'd lost, how tired he looked.

He reached up and released the catch on his helmet, pulling it off and dropping it onto the floor at Bruce's feet. This wasn't what he wanted, this wasn't _right_. Dick was right, he was hurting Bruce. He hoped tonight would help fix this, put Bruce back on the right track.

Bruce moved close after Jason dropped his helmet like it didn't matter, and he reached up slowly until his hand could slide along Jason's jaw, cup his cheek. He could feel him, warm beneath his touch, but he still didn't quite seem real. Not here, not outside his bedroom window.

"Your room is ready," he said softly, staring up at him, his eyes much wider than usual, a little red from all the stress. "I... should go get Alfred. He'll want to see you. He'll -- He'll cook you anything you want, I'm sure.”

Jason ignored him, reaching out to slide his hand around the back of Bruce's neck, pulling him into a kiss, bordering hungry but _gentle_ , so unlike the last few times they've met. Something stung in him as he thought about Bruce's offer, his room. They'd prepared his room for his return, even though he'd expressed _no_ interest in coming back.

One thing was certain. He couldn't face Alfred, not now, not after what he's done. Dick knew, which meant Alfred probably knew too. How disgusted with him would Alfred be? He didn't want to find out.

Bruce went into the kiss without a fight, slipping his own hands up around the back of Jason's head. It certainly wasn't lost on him that Jason hadn't properly responded, but he was _here._ Baby steps in the right direction. The kiss wasn't rough and biting like it had been previous, either, but something softer, though no less hungry. Bruce let his lips part for him, let him in, and one hand slid down to grasp his jacket, giving it a tug.

Jason felt the tug to his jacket and slid off the windowsill, landing on the floor without breaking the kiss, pushing into it more, licking into Bruce's mouth, his arms grabbing Bruce at the waist and pulling him tighter against himself. Bruce had given in to the kiss so easily, not like before when he fought it and tried to talk. Maybe he'd been hungry for it too, in the time since they last met. Maybe he was able to accept it easier now. Maybe location had something to do with it.

Bruce had just been thinking about what a pathetic, disgusting person he was for wanting Jason like this, how he had to stop this, and yet -- it was like that part of his mind shut down as soon as Jason was within arm's reach. Jason tugged him closer and Bruce backed him up to the windowsill, wrapping his arms around him, keeping one hand buried in his hair while the other slid up his spine beneath his jacket.

Bruce kissed him slow, searching, wanting. Pouring out his love for Jason into it. "Stay," he murmured against his mouth, pressing wandering kisses to his jaw.

Jason arched against him, reveling in the feeling of Bruce's hand traveling up his spine. He tilted his head to the side a bit when Bruce broke the kiss and instead kissed along his jaw. _Stay_ , he requested. Jason didn't answer. He didn't want to stay, but he wanted this to be easier on Bruce. His still-gloved hands tucked into the back of Bruce's boxers to grip his ass, pulling the man flush against him.

Bruce sucked in a breath, pressing tight against him, mouthing back up to find his lips and dove in for a hungrier kiss. Jason still wasn't responding, and some part of him knew... he _knew_ how this would end, with the way he hadn't even spoken yet, with the way he'd gotten right to seeking sex, and still... _God_ , he wanted him however Jason would allow.

And Jason was close, chest to chest, groin to groin, not shouting insults to get him to man-handle him, and Bruce just... _wanted_ him.

He slid his hands up his sides, reveling in the chance to _touch_ , but couldn't help himself as his fingers slid and pressed to check for any signs he'd been hurt, even as he slipped them under his jacket and pushed it off his shoulders.

Jason’s skin burned where Bruce touched him, even through all the armor he could _feel_ it. He pulled his hands free of Bruce's boxers when his jacket slipped from his shoulders, hands moving to his hips and nudging him back towards the bed. He dropped his hands to his sides, let the jacket slide off them, then immediately returned them to Bruce's hips. He nipped at Bruce's lip, then pulled away from him entirely, though he instantly missed the man's body against his own. He reached for his utility belt, undoing it and letting it hit the floor with a soft _thud_ , then undid his pants, leaving the button and zipper open before pushing in for another hungry kiss.

Bruce let out a breath as Jason pulled back with a nip to his lip. His eyes darted down as Jason's gloved hands worked at his belt, letting it fall to the floor, but pushed in for another kiss before he could rid himself of any other clothes. Bruce allowed it for a moment, cupping the back of his head and kissing back just as hungrily. But then his hands slid to the opening of his pants, found the catch that kept his shirt in place, and slid his fingers against the hot skin of his hips, smoothed behind to palm his lower back.

Jason's fingers dug into Bruce's hips, loving the feel of his bare hands against his skin. He pushed him back harder until they were stopped by the bed, at which point he pulled back and pushed Bruce down onto the bed. Since Bruce had already freed his shirt, Jason tugged it off, dropping it to the floor before crawling onto the bed over Bruce and leaning down to kiss him again.

Bruce let him shove him down onto the bed, falling practically boneless onto the mattress, staring at Jason as the young man pulled off his shirt. He let out a breath, trying to take in the sight of him but Jason was pushing into his space again, crawling on top of him, kissing him.

He kissed him back, one hand threading through his hair, and he gave Jason a moment on top, just kissing him and almost idly petting his back before flipping them. He held Jason down with a hand pressed to his sternum and sat up so he could just... look at him. His strong, broad shoulders and just diving into a sharp, narrow waist and strong hips. The scars that littered his body, tales of the life he had brought him into. And the worst, the one that made his heart ache -- the Y shaped autopsy scar.

Feeling weak, glad he wasn't standing, Bruce leaned down and pressed his lips to the left branch of the scar, then the right, then right at the center where all three met. His hand gripped the sheets by Jason's shoulder _hard_ to make sure it didn't shake.

Jason's arousal flared hotter when Bruce flipped them over, but then Bruce was holding him down and just staring at him. Then he leaned down and Jason felt his lips at the edge of his _scar_ and Jason stopped breathing. He knew the scar better than any other on his body, how many nights had he laid awake, how often had he traced the scar himself, reminded himself how unnatural he was.

And Bruce was kissing them like his lips had right being anywhere near them.

"Bruce..." he breathed, pushing at the man. Not hard, there was very little effort behind the push, he just didn't want Bruce focusing on those scars.

Bruce rested his forehead against Jason's chest for a moment, eyes shut tight as he had to rework the world around him. Then he cupped Jason's hip, ghost his lips over his chest until he found his jaw, his cheek, his lips again. He cupped his cheek, kissed him slow and shuddering, thinking with each pound of his heart; _I love you. -- Forgive me. -- Stay with me. -- Please. -- Please. -- Please--_

Bruce moved away from the scars and Jason felt like he could breathe normally again, except Bruce stole that ability again almost immediately when their lips reconnected in a slow kiss. Jason could feel the desperation, and it made his chest ache. He had to fight the urge to run, to get as far away from here as he could, _fast_. He was doing this for Bruce, to help him, he had to stay, for now.

He arched up against him, kissing him back without any real rush, letting Bruce set their pace. He had to ignore the desire that begged for _hard_ and _rough_ , that wanted to rile Bruce up so he'd _abuse_ him, hold him down and fuck him into the mattress until he couldn't move anymore. He knew Bruce wanted something else, so he couldn't push his own desire, not tonight.

Jason was tensing, so Bruce pushed into the kiss, hungry and intense, panicked almost, like if he did this wrong he would leave -- because he knew that could be the case. Once Jason relaxed though Bruce let out a breath and settled back into something slower, deeper, slotted his thigh between Jason's and rocked against him, feeling the press of him through his pants. No cup.

Bruce had wilted at the sight of the autopsy scar, because that scar made him want to hold Jason, not fuck him. It made him want to supplicate himself at his feet and beg his forgiveness.

But Jason's presence, his warmth beneath him, the way he pressed against him and kissed him and his new-familiar scent mixed with his old-familiar scent, and the little puffs of breath that brushed over his cheek... his arousal was definitely filling again without a problem.

After a moment he pulled back, slowly sitting up, staring down at him. His eyes darted over Jason's masked face, but that would likely be a battle, so he went with the easier one first. He slipped off the edge of the bed and sank down to his knees, hands sliding down his calves, fingers catching one each edge of his boots, undoing them deftly as he leaned in and nipped at the side of his knee almost impulsively.

Jason was about to ask what Bruce was doing as he sat up and moved off of him, but then he was moving off the bed and down to his knees and Jason sat up to watch him, wanting to protest how slow Bruce was being, wouldn't it be easier to just kick them off and move on? But he didn't say anything, let Bruce take his time. Bruce needed this, he reminded himself, the rough sex was too much for him, even if he had _wanted_ it.

He reached out, slid a hand into Bruce's hair, stroking through it as Bruce worked to remove his boots. A part of him wanted to praise him, but he wasn't sure how Bruce would take it, and he didn't want to end up ruining this moment.

Bruce leaned into the touch like a starved dog, shifted until he could kiss his palm while his own kept working his boots off. Once they were both abandoned on the floor, he nipped at his inner thigh again to distract from the intimate and domestic way his hands slid up Jason's ankles and worked off his socks as well, leaving him in warm bare feet, the pattern of the sock slightly indented beneath his fingertips, and he could only think of the woman who knelt at Jesus's feet and washed them with her tears.

Bruce rose to his feet, between Jason's thighs, curled over him and held his face firm, pausing a second to study his face, the mask hiding his boy from him, the little scar slicing through his lip he got when he was fourteen, a mostly healed bruise on his jaw. And then he dove in for a deep, hungry, consuming kiss.

Jason watched Bruce as he removed his shoes, even pulled his socks off, it was all...too gentle, and Jason wasn't sure if he liked it.

When Bruce finally finished, he rose to his feet again and leaned over him, seemed to study him, then kissed him and Jason returned it in full, hands lifting to explore Bruce's bare chest, before remembering that he was still wearing his gloves. He pulled them off and tossed them aside blindly, then resumed exploring Bruce's chest.

Bruce kissed him harder as Jason's bare hands explored his chest, though his own couldn't seem to stop just cradling his jaw, holding him close. Jason was angled up for the kiss, Bruce curled over him and licking into his mouth.

When he pulled back for a breath he took half a step back, dropped his hands down to Jason's pants and then hauled him up to his feet. He took a moment to feel their bodies flush together, to log the smokey taste of his mouth, and then he pushed his pants down, helping him take them off. He finally let his hands explore his body, everywhere he hadn't been allowed to touch the two other times, skin to skin, making him hotter and harder by just the intimate contact. He slid his hands up the planes of his back, the strong muscles there, the way he was nearly as broad as Bruce now. He kneaded into the small of his back, held his hips, followed the knobs of his spine with his finger tips.

And then he pulled away, breaths uneven and eyes dark and wanting but _soft_. "On the bed," he said, voice husky with desire. "In the middle." He didn't want to do this on the edge of the bed, or over a desk, or atop roof top -- he wanted him safe and warm in the middle of his huge bed, so Jason could relax and fall asleep immediately after -- if Bruce was lucky, at least.

Jason's breath hitched as Bruce removed his pants, and he willingly and silently stepped out of them, only to press up against Bruce, heat flaring in his gut as Bruce's hands explored his body. He tilted his head to kiss along Bruce's jaw, hands venturing down from his chest to his waist, fingers tracing some of the scars they passed on the way down.

Then Bruce pulled away and he let his hands fall, his eyes meeting Bruce's and swallowing thickly at the look that was in them. He didn't argue, instead turning and crawling onto the bed as ordered, moving over to the middle and turning back to Bruce, waiting. His boxers did little to hide how hard he was.

For once Bruce got no backtalk from Jason, the boy instead turning and crawling onto the bed as asked, and Bruce couldn't help the flare of want at the sight. Jason's body was gorgeous, beautifully and tenaciously sculpted, even more so when in motion. And crawling almost naked onto Bruce's own bed was not a motion he'd ever thought he'd see.

He met his eyes again, or rather, the mask covering them. Bruce gave a little growl and climbed onto the bed after him, overtop him. "Mask off." He said lowly, hovering over him, his breaths unsteady.

Bruce was on the bed and on top of him only a moment later and Jason's hands lifted up to trail down his sides, reveling in the feel of his muscles under his fingertips. He chewed on his lip for a moment, then slowly licked his lips, a slight grin tugging at the corners.

"You could always take it off yourself," he suggested. His hands trailed back up Bruce's sides and down his arms until he could hook his fingers around Bruce's wrists. Not painfully hard, _just enough_ to indicate he _wasn't_ talking about using his hands.

Bruce's gaze dropped to Jason's mouth, that tongue peeking out, that familiar grin, and then he watched as Jason's hands slid down his arms until he was holding his wrists, and he knew exactly what he wanted, because the thought had flickered across his mind several times before in the past few weeks.

He didn't argue, and he could try to fool himself into thinking it was because it was what Jason wanted, and he had to play this game and give in a few times to be able to come out on top -- but he knew he just _wanted_ to rip off that mask with his teeth and see Jason the way he hadn't in years.

He dove in for a filthy, breathless kiss, growling low, then pulled off with no warning to instead slide his mouth across his cheek to the edge of his mask, nipping at it, testing it, then caught it between his teeth and peeled it off.

Heat flared in his gut at the kiss, at the _growl_ , and then Bruce pulled away _all too soon_ , and Jason felt his lips, leaving a trail of _fire_ up his cheek to the mask, and Jason felt every nip and tug as Bruce worked to peel it off.

_Fuck_.

Bruce had _no right_ being that goddamn sexy. So what if it was _his_ suggestion, he was _not allowed_ to do that. His hands tightened slightly around Bruce's wrists and once the mask was gone, he leaned up and sank his teeth into the curve of Bruce's neck, quickly switching to suck on the spot.

As soon as he had worked his mask off, before he could get a proper look at his boy, Jason leaned in like a dog going for the throat, teeth sinking into his neck with a sharp paint that jolted down his nerves, alighting him, coiling hot in his gut. He wondered if Jason drew blood but found the only reaction he had to the concept to be _Yes, please._

Then Jason began sucking at the spot, making a mark, a mark he would have to hide if he wanted to avoid questions, a mark he'd have to lie about, a mark he desperately wanted to keep on his skin as long as possible.

Bruce groaned, shuddered, hips grinding down against him as he tipped his face to kiss every part of him he could reach while Jason attacked his neck.

Jason had wanted to let Bruce keep control, let him set the pace they went, let Bruce do what he wanted, allow him to have the gentle love Jason assumed he wanted, but god he just couldn't help himself. He worried Bruce's skin between his teeth for a moment before moving to another spot nearby, biting and sucking to leave another mark. Bruce had left countless marks on him the last time they met, he wanted to return the favor tonight.

He let go of Bruce's wrists and moved them back to his hips, gripping tight and rocking up against him _hard_. God he wanted nothing more than for Bruce to fuck him into the mattress until he couldn't move, fuck him so hard they broke the bed. And what a feat that would be, with as sturdy as this bed _was_.

" _Fuck me,_ " he groaned against his neck, nails digging into Bruce's hips.

Bruce breathed fast, uneven, cupping Jason's head with one hand while the other gripped at the sheets, every bite like striking a match, and every suck fanning the flame. God, he wanted this. _Needed_ this.

"Yes," he choked out, cock jumping at the sharp pain of Jason's nails sinking into his sides. He wanted to touch him, and kiss him, and look at him, and hold him, and keep him safe, and fuck him until he was a screaming, moaning, boneless mess on his bed.

He sat up and grabbed Jason's hips, yanking at his boxer-briefs so hard he dragged Jason down the bed with them, and watched with hungry fascination as he finally pushed them out of the way to see that cock, big and full and curved and leaking, and Bruce -- 

Bruce leaned in and swallowed him down.

So much for slow and gentle.

Maybe this was how it was meant to be. Rough, desperate, hungry, _needy_. Even with Jason's _intention_ to keep it slow, they still somehow ended up back here, with Bruce _yanking_ his boxers out of the way, so hard Jason slid down the bed as well, and then--

" _Fuck!_ " Jason cried out, moaning loud as one hand shot to Bruce's hair, sliding into it and tightening, the other gripping the sheets under him so tight his knuckles turned white, his hips rocking up into Bruce's mouth against his will. He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing full well he _couldn't_ bring himself to look at Bruce right now.

Bruce's throat worked around him expertly, not choking even when Jason bucked right up into him. He bobbed up and down on his cock, sucking, swirling his tongue. He swallowed him down until his nose was buried in his thick course hair and then hummed, pressed his tongue to his underside, slid up again to suck and tongue relentlessly as his tip, fully intending to take him apart just like this.

This clearly wasn't the first time Bruce had done anything like this, he was _way_ too good at it for it to be the first. Jason couldn't focus on anything, couldn't _think_ beyond the way Bruce's mouth felt around him, the way he hummed around him, the way he sucked on him, the way his tongue worked on him. _God_ , he was way too good at this. He moaned freely, fingers stroking through Bruce's hair and briefly tightening with each spike of pleasure.

Jason's sounds were beautiful, honest, and shot through him with a burst of pleasure, doubled as he stroked and tugged at his hair. Bruce breathed through his nose, arousal staining and straining the front of his tight boxers but he didn't touch himself, didn't try to alleviate any of it. Instead he focused completely on his task, gripping Jason's hips tight and holding him down.

He switched between swallowing him down deep to kissing up his arousal to using his lips to play with his head, kissing his leaking tip like they were his lips.

Jason groaned, straining against Bruce's hold weakly. He knew he wasn't going to last long, he was already turned on beyond belief and Bruce was _way too fucking good at this_. He finally opened his eyes to look at Bruce as the man started kissing his cock like he would have kissed him on the lips and Jason couldn't hold back anymore. His hand tightened in Bruce's hair as he came hard, acting without really thinking and tugging Bruce's head back just a bit so his cum shot across his face.

It wouldn't have been his first choice, but Bruce didn't fight it when Jason yanked his head back as he came, so his cum sprayed out against his lips and chin and forehead and over the bridge of his nose. Bruce breathed heavy, arms trembling as they held up his weight. But he caught Jason's eye, and rather than shame and embarrassment he _burned_ with arousal knowing Jason was looking at him with his own come covering Bruce's face.

He licked his lips slowly, shifted his weight to lift a hand to rub the come off his face as he moved up Jason's body. Then he held his come covered hand up to Jason's mouth, eyes dark and boring into him

He normally wouldn't be into that kind of display, but _damn_ if it wasn't absolutely arousing to see Bruce covered in _his_ come. He watched Bruce wipe off his face, his breathing ragged. Bruce held his hand up to Jason's mouth and Jason held his gaze, his own eyes filled with lust despite having just come.

He tilted his head up, keeping Bruce's gaze as he licked his hand clean slowly, drawing it out. Without breaking eye contact, he reached down to grip Bruce through his boxers, squeezing his cock.

_Jesus._ How would he ever be able to stop this now? How would he ever be able to look Jason in the face and tell him _no_ , when now he knew what it looked like to see Jason -- his Jason, his face uncovered -- holding his gaze and licking his own cum off Bruce's fingers?

Bruce was frozen to the spot, staring, unmoving, until Jason squeezed him through his boxers and he very nearly came then and there. He _shuddered_ , like a great tree before it fell, and dove in and devoured his mouth in a hungry kiss, tasting his cum on his tongue. He grabbed Jason's hand and shoved it up, then under the waist band until he felt his hot, calloused hands against his bare flesh, and Bruce shuddered and groaned low into Jason's mouth. He jerked into their hands, his own holding Jason's in place, and came almost immediately.

Jason moaned into the kiss, arching against him. He felt Bruce guide his hand up, then into his boxers. He didn't need the instruction, he wrapped his fingers around Bruce's cock and gave him a firm squeeze as Bruce twitched into his hand. It took no time at all for Bruce to come, which told Jason how close he'd been and how hard he'd been trying to hold out. He stroked Bruce through his orgasm, then pulled his hand out of his boxers and looked at his fingers, slicked with Bruce's come. His eyes met Bruce's again and he smirked. He could have returned the favor and had Bruce lick his fingers off, but something told him it would be far more arousing if _he_ licked it off instead, so that's exactly what he did. He brought his fingers to his own mouth and slowly licked them off, holding Bruce's gaze as he did.

Fuck. _Fuck._

Bruce was mesmerized, could only watch as Jason stared him down like the little shit he was and licked Bruce's come off his fingers. He watched, frozen, as Jason took his time, languidly licked his hand clean, finger by finger, between them, his palm.

Once he was clean, Bruce paused a moment, then surged in to kiss him again. The kiss started desperate and heavy but steadily slowed until it was deep and lingering, holding onto his face, lowering down to the bed next to him and wrapping his arms around him to tug him up on his side.

Jason returned the kiss in full, arching up against Bruce and wrapping his arms around him to hold him tight against himself. It slowed down until Bruce shifted them, and Jason shifted closer to him, keeping the kiss going, his hand settled on Bruce's hip to keep him close.

When he broke the kiss for breath, he instead tucked his head against Bruce's neck, pressing a few soft kisses to his neck. "I hope you're not too tired for another round," he murmured.

Bruce shivered, held Jason tight and close, relishing in the feeling of his lips on his neck, the kisses _soft_. He slid his hand up his spine and into his hair, petting it gently, and his heart skipped a beat when Jason talked about going again rather than picking up and leaving immediately. Bruce relaxed a little more, and held him a little tighter, brushing his lips over his cheek and brow.

"Never," he chuckled. He pressed him down flat onto the bed again, kissing him deep but languid, hands sliding down his sides. When he broke the kiss this time he moved slightly away, shucked off his boxers all the way, and rolled to the edge of the bed to reach into his bedside drawer. His fingers brushed a box of condoms and he felt a twinge of embarrassment that he'd failed to use them three times now. Didn't really matter now.

So he grabbed just the lube and rolled back over to Jason, pausing to cup his face and just.. look at him. His face was a little red where the mask had been, now harder to tell with the way he was flushed high up on his cheeks, but those were his boy’s cheek bones, those were his boy's eyes, ones he hadn't gotten to see since... since before Jason had left that night to find his mother. To fall into the hands of the Joker. He remembered picking up his limp, broken body. His eyes bloodshot and glassy, staring up at nothing.

Bruce's hands trembled now as he set the lube down, gently held Jason's face, and just studied him, committed this sight to memory, and leaned in to rest their foreheads together. "I'm sorry, Jason," he whispered.

Jason returned the kiss easily until Bruce pulled away, and he propped himself up on one elbow to watch Bruce move across the bed, finally take off his boxers(and Jason didn't even try to hide how he stared at his ass). When Bruce faced him again, Jason let his gaze linger on his cock, this being the first time he properly saw it, and licked his lips. Even soft he was goddamn massive.

His gaze shifted back up to meet Bruce's as the man slid up to him, and Jason could _see_ the shift in his eyes, and something twisted almost painfully in him. No, this wasn't what he wanted, this wasn't supposed to happen.

He hated that he was naked, he hated the sudden desire to pull on whatever was close and dive out the window, he didn't want to go _back there_. And Bruce was trying to take him there.

He pulled back, looked away, trying to resist the urge to curl in on himself. "Don't," he breathed, barely loud enough to be heard.

Jason was walling himself up, mentally fleeing and the effort to not _physically_ run from this too was obvious. Jason pulled back but Bruce crowded into his space again, fearing if he let space get between them then this was over.

"Okay," he whispered, holding onto his face, stroking his hair, brushing his lips over his. "Okay." He palmed his back, kept his hand there to keep Jason _here_ , tipped their lips together to draw him deeper into a kiss.

Bruce didn't let him pull away and he didn't fight against it, leaning back into him and pressing into the kiss, one hand lifting to Bruce's neck, nails dragging down from his neck to his chest. He needed to be _here_ , and _now_ , he didn't want to go back there, he _couldn't_ go back there.

Bruce hummed into the kiss, stroking his hair, petting his back, cupping his face, even as he shuddered at the feel of Jason's nails dragging down his front. He kissed him soft but persistent, touching him to comfort, to apologize. Bruce lived in his past, let it consume and guide him, but Jason was like Dick, fighting to move on, to overcome his past pain. Bruce could never understand it, could never replicate it, but he was so proud of his birds for doing what he couldn't.

When he paused for a breath this time, he cupped his jaw, moved back just enough to look at him. "Did you want to stop?"

Bruce kept it soft and tender and that wasn't any better in this moment than revisiting the past. When Bruce broke the kiss and asked if he wanted to stop, he _wanted_ to say yes. This wasn't going the way he wanted it to, the way he'd pictured it, but what would leaving now do to both of them? Jason off to slip and fall into his past, and Bruce left to suffer thinking he'd ruined the night? No, leaving wouldn't help either of them.

He gave a small growl and nipped at Bruce's lip, tugging on it. "You still owe me a good fuck, old man," he stated. He intended to cash in on that. "Unless you changed your mind? It _is_ late, maybe you're not _up_ for it." He pointedly glanced down at Bruce's cock.

Bruce sucked in a breath at the nip and tug, his cock slowly starting to fill again. He still wanted to take care of Jason, but it didn't seem to be working.

So he crowded into his space and guided him flat onto his back, diving in for another kiss as his hand slid down his side to cup his hip. "And what about you, _boy?_ " He growled lowly, slipping his hand down to cup Jason's cock in return, teasing it gently, unsure how oversensitive he may be.

The growl in Bruce's voice coupled with his hand immediately reaching for his cock drew a low moan out of Jason. Seemed they were both still up for it. With Bruce's hand on his cock, it wouldn't take long for him to get hard. He rocked up into his hand.

"Probably more ready than you are," he answered huskily. He loved challenging Bruce like this, it seemed the fastest way to get a reaction out of him.

"Not here, you're not," he growled, squeezing his ass as pressing his fingers along his crease. He sat up on his knees and grabbed Jason's thighs, dragging him half in his lap and pushing at this thighs to expose him. He grabbed the lube and poured it over his fingers, then teased along his crease again, gently pressing and swirling the very tip of his hole.

It _had_ been a while since Bruce fucked him, he couldn't argue that, but that didn't mean he wanted to _wait_ while Bruce stretched him. Even if it was incredibly arousing to be manhandled like Bruce was so _good_ at doing. Manhandling him, going rough without going over any lines. He rocked his hips down against Bruce's fingers, biting his lip. "You gonna tease me all night or are you going to _do_ something?"

"I believe," he hummed, still exploring just the tip of his hole, around it, "I already sucked your cock until you came across my face." He pressed just the tip of his finger inside, pressing down on one side. "I suppose I won't repeat that if you're too _impatient_ for such _teasing._ "

"Mmm, and it was such a lovely sight." He rocked down against Bruce's finger again, trying to encourage him to go deeper. He could handle it, what was Bruce worried about? "You looked so good covered in my cum."

"Hm." He probably could've gotten away with his dispassionate attitude had it not been for the fact he was completely naked and his cock definitely jumped at his words. He worked to distract Jason from it by sliding his finger away from his hole when he tried to grind down against it, then suddenly shoved it two knuckles deep.

Jason growled a bit when Bruce pulled his finger away, but the sound cut off into a strangled groan when he shoved in without warning. " _Yes_ ," he moaned. " _More_."

Bruce worked his finger slowly again, but steadily, pushing in and out, a little deeper each time, swirling his finger inside and pressing on the hot walls within him. As his worked him open, he held his hip, gripped his thigh, stroked it, watched his body flush red, watched the shape of his lips, the color of his eyes.

He swirled his finger until he could fit a second in and then kept steadily working him open, just shy of too rough, keeping careful watch of his every reaction so every thrust, every crook, every shift was _good_. Never too much.

"Talk to me, Jay," Bruce breathed lowly.

Jason moaned freely as Bruce worked him open, trying not to think about how he wanted nothing more than to rile Bruce up and get the man to fuck him into the mattress. It was even harder to ignore when Bruce asked him to talk to him. He wasn't sure he could manage _not_ being that honest right now.

"Can't wait until you fuck me," he said. "Can't wait to feel your cock in me. So big, so full, love being stretched like that," he moaned.

"Yes," Bruce murmured, opening his fingers a little wider, pressing them a little deeper, his eyes dark with want. He couldn't wait to see Jason's eyes during every peek, no longer hidden behind white lenses. "Look at me," he breathed, then said again in a rougher, more commanding voice. " _Look_ at me, Jason." He crooked his fingers, seeking the perfect spot. "Tell me everything you want."

Jason had to take a second to think through the burst of pleasure as Bruce sought out and _found_ his prostate, but then he decided to give Bruce exactly what he wanted. He reached up to pull Bruce closer until their foreheads touched, his own eyes burning as they met Bruce's.

"Want you to fuck me so hard I can't walk. You want to keep me here? So _keep me here_ ," he growled, his tone heavy with the implications, the demand for a fuck so good he _couldn't_ leave the next day. " _Take. Me._ "

Jason dragged him down and Bruce went willingly, eagerly, heart jumping up into their throat and for a moment he thought _he'd_ have to close his eyes against all this. But Jason was holding him close, staring him down, and he was _here_ and he _wanted_ to be here and he wanted Bruce to _keep_ him here and _damn_ if that didn't turn him on all the more.

He gave a few more seconds to making sure Jason was loose enough then gave no other warning than removing his fingers before grabbing his hip with one hand, the other pressed against his inner thigh and holding it open for him -- and then Bruce _shoved_ inside, _shuddering_ at Jason's tight heat.

" _Jason,_ " he gasped, eyes half lidded, panting against his lips. He moved just a little, a shift, a swivel of his hips, giving himself the moment he hadn't taken before to just get to know the feel of himself sheathed inside his boy.

Bruce's fingers slid out and it didn't take more than a couple seconds before the emptiness left by his fingers was replaced with his cock and Jason _keened_ , cock twitching as he arched off the bed. _God_ Bruce felt _amazing_ in him. He was grateful for Bruce taking a second to just sit inside him, Jason was reeling from the sudden intrusion. But it only took a few seconds before he recovered.

He yanked Bruce down into a hard and hungry kiss, shifting his hips just enough to feel the movement of Bruce inside him, moaning into the kiss as he pushed his tongue into Bruce's mouth.

Bruce hissed at the yank but eagerly went in for the kiss, opened up for Jason's tongue before immediately chasing it, nipping it, diving into his mouth to kiss him relentlessly, swirl his tongue along his teeth, over the sensitive top of his mouth, all the while rocking into him in long, hard thrusts.

When he parted for a breath he growled and bit down on his jaw, then again a little higher up, then down onto his neck and bit and sucked where his high collar wouldn't cover. "You're mine," he growled, sliding a hand up to cup his face, grip his jaw, tip it away to give him better access to his throat. "No one else gets to mark you. No one else gets to _fuck_ you."

Jason didn't even try to argue, didn't try to fight back-- though maybe he should have since that tended to make Bruce get more _rough_ with him. He let Bruce take control, reveled in his hot, hard length slamming into him, the tongue thoroughly exploring his mouth, the way Bruce bit and sucked on his neck. He groaned when Bruce turned his head, his hands moving to Bruce's back and nails digging into his skin, his legs hooking tightly around Bruce's waist.

"No one else," he echoed. "Claim me, _keep me_." He'd keep coming back for more. How could he resist? He finally had something he's wanted for years, and Bruce was willing and _wanting_ and had yet to turn him away. He would keep coming back.

"Who else have you fucked?" Bruce demanded, low and dangerous, slamming his hips into him, bending him into a tighter and tighter curl each time. One hand gripped the sheets by Jason's head, the other curled into his hair. He bit his neck, dragged his teeth down the tendon to his shoulder, following the line of his collar bone down with bruising kisses. "Where have they touched you?"

Jason wasn't thinking straight, and he knew he'd probably regret most of what he said tonight come morning, but he didn't really care right now. He absolutely loved how it felt to have Bruce so completely focused on him, so completely wrapped around him.

"Talia-- _tried_ ," he managed. He didn't like to revisit that, since nothing had happened, but Bruce asked, so why not mention it? Especially since Bruce seemed to be possessive of him, how would he react?

Bruce froze, his mind crashing to a halt, then refocusing on the concept of Talia -- lovely, vicious Talia -- and Jason, the woman deftly pursuing him the same way she had Bruce, calling him _beloved_ almost casually...

Then he returned to the moment, Jason tight and hot and gasping beneath him, and he growled and thrust so hard Jason moved up a few inches on the bed. " _Where?_ " He demanded, pulling nearly all the way out then snapping their hips back together.

Bruce froze and Jason wondered if maybe he _shouldn't_ have said anything. But it was too late to take it back now. Bruce recovered before Jason had a chance to say anything else and slammed into him so hard he slid up the bed and a broken moan escaped him.

Bruce wanted to know where. In truth, Jason had barely let Talia touch him, but if it got more of a reaction out of Bruce, he didn't mind stretching the truth, _a little_.

"Had her hands-- all over me. Didn't..." He bit his lip to bite back a moan,"want to take no...for an answer."

Bruce growled like a dog about to attack, and dove in for a biting kiss, sliding his hands all over his boy's body. One cupped his face gently then held his jaw tight to keep him where he wanted; the other dug into the meat of his thigh then slid up to his hips, the first sliding down to match. He held his hips, squeezed them, dipped down to cup his ass and drag it flush against him as he pounded into it, used his blunt nails to scratch up his chest and sides.

He bit his jaw, _hard_ , needing color to bloom beneath his teeth, and did the same to his neck, his shoulder, revisited the marks on his collar bone to deepen them, then curled them both even more so he could drag his teeth over the curve of his pec.

"Who do you belong to?" He growled, digging his teeth in as if he could bite down hard enough to get to Jason's heart.

His words had the desired effect, Bruce started attacking him like if he didn't leave a single spot unmarked, someone else might come along and snatch him up. The pain of each bite, drag of nails or teeth over his skin, mixed in with the pleasure as Bruce continued slamming into him. He knew he wasn't going to last much longer now.

Then Bruce demanded to know who he belonged to and Jason chose not to answer. He knew the defiance made Bruce get more violent, and he was already _so close_. He dug his nails into Bruce's back, dragging harsh red lines down his back.

" _Who!?_ " Bruce practically shouted, surging up to bite his lower lip, squeezing his hips, the sharp pain of Jason's nails down his back only spurring him on more, fucking him harder. Then he pulled nearly all the way out, just his tip barely inside, and though his thighs trembled with the effort he remained still. " _Who!?_ "

The pain pulled him right to the edge and he arched against Bruce. One more--

Bruce stopped and Jason's nails dug into his back, growling at the sudden emptiness and the rough yank back from the edge.

" _Fuck_ ," he groaned. He rocked his hips down, trying to get Bruce to move again, to go back to fucking him hard. He was _so close_.

Bruce gripped his hips like a vice, keeping him from moving, shoving him hard against the bed. " _Who, Jason?_ " He squeezed his hips hard enough to bruise. " _Say it!_ "

Jason caved, his need for more, for _anything_ driving him. "You," he breathed, reaching up and digging his nails into the back of Bruce's neck. " _You_. Only you." He pulled him into a heated kiss. The marks and bruises _all over_ his body was proof that he belonged to Bruce and only him.

A broken moan escaped him and Bruce _shuddered_ at his words. It wasn't his name on Jason's lips, but it was close enough. So he slammed into him again, smothering his sounds against Jason's lips. "Good boy. Good boy. You're mine, all mine, only mine -- Jason--"

The snap of their hips and the bite of his nails and the sound and feel of Jason beneath him -- he slammed into him one last time and came, shuddering violently as he spilled inside him.

Bruce slammed into him again and Jason cried out, dropping his head back as he came. His nails dug slightly deeper as Bruce slammed into him once more and he felt the older man fill him up. He groaned, panting hard as he slowly calmed down.

God he loved hearing his name on Bruce's lips, he loved hearing Bruce call him _his_. He was Bruce's, and only Bruce's. He didn't _want_ anyone else. Why would he? When Bruce was all he needed and more.

Bruce shuddered as they came, panting against his mouth, resting his forehead against Jason's, letting his weight settle a bit atop him, still buried deep inside. His skin burned and muscles trembled, and as soon as he could breathe again he kissed him, slow and deep, one hand cupping the back of his head. He turned them on their sides and locked their legs together, their skin both a mess of scars, and wrapped his arms tight around him so he couldn't leave.

"Jason..."

_I love you, I love you, I love you._

Jason groaned quietly when Bruce shifted them onto their sides, pressed back into the kiss as Bruce said his name. No, no time for talking, don't ruin the mood. He slid his hand down Bruce's side, humming into the kiss as he memorized how Bruce felt under his fingers.

After a moment, he grinned a bit against Bruce's lips, pulled away just enough to speak. "As good as that was, I believe I _could_ still get up and walk out of here," he stated, a clear challenge for Bruce to do _better_.

Bruce felt warm and hazy, like after a few drinks, not that he ever let himself drink much. And why would he need to, now, when Jason could make him feel like this? Jason may not be letting him say what he wanted to, but Bruce struggled with the words anyway. Even if given the chance, he was certain he would choke on them.

His heart thudded at Jason's challenge, a twinge of worry that was quickly smothered since he recognized the tease, the challenge. Jason didn't want to leave, but he wanted Bruce to make him stay.

Bruce knocked their noses together, caught his mouth with his for a moment before murmuring in return. "Perhaps I _should_ tie you up." He said it lowly, ready to switch tactic if such a thing would be too much for his boy despite the fact he had suggested it before. He looped his thumb and middle finger around Jason's wrist, and tugged it up until he could nip at his knuckles. "Wrap a tie around your wrist. Tie you to my bed. Keep you here.”

Jason gave a pleased hum into the kiss, despite how brief it was. Bruce mentioned tying him up and he grinned lightly. "I knew it. You'd just love to have me utterly at your mercy like that, wouldn't you?" he teased. "Able to do whatever you wanted to me, tie me down so good I can't get free.”

He was right, of course. This was just another thing Bruce was guilty of. But... He nipped lightly at his lip, his jaw, brushed his lips along his cheek until his teeth grazed Jasons ear. "And you _want_ to be at my mercy, don't you?”

Jason's breath caught in his throat at his words. _God_ yes, he did. He wanted Bruce to strap him down and _break him_. "And what if I say yes?" he countered.

That hitch of breath rolled through Bruce, his soft cock twitching once more in interest where it still lay sheathed inside Jason. He drew a hand down his back, pressing him gently but firmly closer, settling at the small of his back. "Then I would give you _exactly_ what you want.”

Jason felt Bruce twitch inside him and bit back a groan. He had Bruce completely wrapped around his finger and he wasn't even trying right now. Bruce reacted so easily to him, and Jason _loved it_. "What we both want," he corrected quietly before pressing into a hungry kiss.

Bruce was so dumb and sentimental, Jason's words warmed him so much, made him feel like this might actually work out. That this wasn't just Jason seeking pleasure and destruction, and Bruce giving in, but something they _both wanted._ That they were together. That they could _be_ together.

Bruce let Jason drown him with a hungry kiss, giving him a few moments of control before surging back in and fighting for it back, pressing him down onto the bed again, slowly slipping out of him even as he kissed him. "What would you like me to use?" He murmured against his lips. He was amazed, really, that Jason wanted to go through with this, having been sure this was all just talk on his part to egg Bruce on. But Jason was eager beneath his hands and mouth. "Ties? Ropes? Belts?”

Jason gave a quiet moan into the kiss, arching up against Bruce until the man spoke. He grinned mischievously at the question, already knowing his preference.

"Ties," he answered. "Ones that you wear a lot." He wondered if Bruce would get it. One that Bruce wore a lot, so that the next time Bruce went to wear that tie, he wouldn't be able to think of anything except how he'd used it to tie Jason to his bed.

Bruce had half a mind to deny him. He didn't need even further reminders of this inappropriate tryst distracting him in all parts of his life. Nonetheless, as soon as he said it, Bruce's mind went straight to the ties he knew he'd use. 

He leaned down to kiss him softly, sliding a hand up to cup his jaw, press his thumb against one of the marks of his teeth. "Four? One for each limb?”

Four ties, he could be on Bruce's mind every day of the week, if Bruce re-used his ties a lot. Something told him that even if he normally didn't, that would change after today. He licked his lips and nodded.

"Yeah, four's good." He reached down with one hand to wrap it around Bruce's cock. If he was about to be tied down and not allowed to touch Bruce, he wanted to get one last touch in.

Bruce pulled back just enough to watch him fondly, seeing the way his mind worked, and then Jason wrapped his fingers around his cock and Bruce let out a little breath. He was still mostly soft from the last two orgasms, a little sensitive too, but that didn't stop him from rocking into his touch.

"You have thirty seconds," he said lowly, a little growl deep in his chest. "To do whatever you'd like to me. And then I'm tying you to my bed until I'm done with you.”

Thirty seconds wasn't much, but Jason was sure it was more than enough to get Bruce hard again. His hands moved to Bruce's waist, which he gripped hard so he could flip them over. He wasted no time in sliding down and taking Bruce's cock into his mouth, sucking on him as he lifted his gaze to meet Bruce’s.

True to his word, Bruce let Jason flip them and _god_ did that give him a rush, letting Jason take command for a moment, and then Jason slipped his mouth over his cock and looked him in the eye and Bruce groaned out his name and gripped the sheets hard. His hips shifted into Jason's mouth, and he had half a mind to just grab his head and fuck into his mouth until he came again, but that wasn't the plan. He'd save that one for later.

He held Jason's gaze, burning and hungry and heart flipping at the contact, how there were no masks between them, literal or figurative. He struggled to control his breathing, to focus, to not just fly apart at the seams.

But thirty seconds was up. He grabbed Jason by the hair and yanked him off his cock. "Time's up," he said, voice gravely with desire. His cock was nearly completely hard again at Jason's attentions.

He hauled Jason back up the bed and shoved him down onto it, then made up for the manhandling with a soft press of his lips. "Get comfortable." He cupped his boy's jaw for another moment longer, then slipped away. He walked, naked, over to the large adjoining closet and to his tie rack. The first he grabbed was a thin blue one that Alfred had set out along with the rest of what he was intended to wear tomorrow. The next was a thin black tie, a slightly wider red one, and finally a silver with a subtle patterned sheen to it. He stared at them all a moment as they fell over his hands, all the finest silk, and pictured them wrapped around Jason.

Jesus. They were really doing this.

Bruce licked his lips.

He returned silently to the main room, moving slowly to the edge of the bed. He laid out the ties side by side, smoothing them down on the mattress, then looked to Jason and held out his hand.

Jason groaned as he was yanked off Bruce's cock, though he could hear the strain in Bruce's voice, how he wanted _more_ , how hard it was to put an end to it. That was okay, Jason could pick up where he left off later.

Bruce pushed him down onto the bed and Jason arched up against him, letting out a disappointed sigh as Bruce moved away. He sat up to watch Bruce slide off the bed and head for his closet. He laid back, stretching out on the bed and getting comfortable, as instructed. He propped himself up on an elbow as Bruce returned, eyeing the ties he'd picked out. He did recognize most of them, having seen Bruce wear them on the news many times before. He offered his hand to Bruce.

Bruce couldn't help the soft look that came over his face as Jason offered his hand, and he cupped his boy's strong, scarred hand gently, pulled it up a bit and leaned forwards to press his lips to his knuckles. His other hand smoothed down Jason's arm and wrist, getting a feel for it before picking up the red tie and slowly wrapping it around Jason's wrist, gently guiding his arm up and back towards the bedpost.

Jason watched him, trying to ignore the painful twist in his chest at how gentle Bruce was suddenly being. He watched Bruce wrap the tie around his wrist and let him guide it back to the bedpost. There was an itch in the back of his mind that he did his best to ignore.

Bruce watched his expression, saw something in it, and the minute tenseness of his muscles, but it wasn't alarming enough yet to stop. So he just slowly continued, tying his wrist to the bed post. Then he climbed onto the bed, straddled him, and watched his boy for a moment before picking up the thin black one next and wrapping it around Jason's next wrist.

Jason tugged on the tie holding his wrist down experimentally. It wasn't enough to _keep_ him down, but the whole point was to stay tied up so he didn't try to get himself free. He rocked up against Bruce-- really he should have known better than to straddle him like that.

Bruce worked at his other wrist as Jason tugged on the first tie. He'd be able to get out of it easily, of course. Bruce had trained him well, and even if he hadn't, he'd tied a slip knot. 

He cracked a smile as Jason rocked up, and settled some of his weight down onto his lap in return, rolling his hips. Still holding onto his wrist, Bruce leaned over to kiss him, let them have a moment of kissing and grinding before he pulled away with a nip, and leaned over him to tie that wrist to the bed post.

Jason was immediately distracted by the man's lips on his and he rocked up against him freely, even after Bruce pulled away from the kiss.

As Bruce tied down the other wrist, the itch in Jason's mind grew, and he desperately tried to ignore it, but it quickly proved to be an impossible task. Bruce finished tying and Jason tugged with both wrists. It wasn't strong enough to keep him down, but that didn't stop the panic settling into his mind.

"Bruce--" His hands clenched into fists, yanking on the ties harder. He could hear the echo of the clown's laugh in his mind and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Bruce froze as Jason said his name, something he'd been aching for, but it was all wrong. His voice was small, shuddering, tight. His eyes were shut tight and he yanked on the ties with a tenseness in his entire body that had nothing to do with arousal.

"Jason--" he breathed, worried, cupping his face, thinking _stupid, careless._ How could he do this to his boy? They hadn't even -- hadn't even talked about it, decided on safe words, anything. And after everything Jason had been through--

Bruce leaned up and yanked both ties free.

Jason felt hands on his face and yanked again, the ties feeling impossibly tight around his wrists. " _Get off,_ " he snapped, the words coming out breathless despite his attempt to sound aggressive.

The ties slid away and Jason immediately curled in on himself as much as he could, wrapping his arms around his chest and trying to fight off the panic etched deep in his mind, his breathing uneven, ragged.

The words _hurt_ even though Bruce knew it was just the panic talking. Jason curled in on himself and Bruce dropped to his side, wrapping his arms around him to gather him to his chest, uncertain if it would make it better or worse but ready to deal with the consequences. "You're safe now, Jason. He's not here. Breathe for me, love. I'm here, Jason, you're not alone."

_Breathe_ , he said. Like he wasn't _trying_. He didn't fight against Bruce's hold, instead curling closer to him, his nails digging into his sides as Bruce spoke, trying to assure him. He's not here, he said. Then why could he hear the laughter echoing so loudly in his mind? " _No_ ," he whined. He wasn't sure what he was saying no to.

Bruce let out a short breath when Jason didn't fight his hold, curled closer to him instead, and so Bruce held him a little closer, a little tighter, cupping the back of his head and curling around him to nuzzle his temple. "You're safe. I've got you. He's not here, Jason, I promise. I know you hear him, but it's not _real_. You're here, you're home, you're -- in my bed. You're safe. I won't let him touch you again."

He stroked his hair, encouraged him to lay his head against his chest. "Remember what I taught you. Control your breathing. In -- two, three; Out -- two, three. Follow mine. Focus on my heartbeat.”

Not real. He's not here. He focused on what Bruce was saying, focused on controlling his breathing, attempted to re-center himself. He was at the Manor, not that damned warehouse. He was with Bruce, safe, he was okay. Bruce kept talking and Jason focused his attention on his words, on his voice, on the man's heartbeat as he pressed close. It took a couple agonizingly long minutes, but he was finally able to control his breathing and pull himself out, the echoes of the clown's laughter fading as his breathing evened out and his body relaxed.

Bruce continued to murmur soft encouragements, reassurances, directions, and he felt it work, felt Jason slowly calming down, coming back to the present. He stroked his hair, his back; kissed his temple, his forehead. Didn't stop, even when Jason's body finally relaxed, his breaths evened. He cupped his face, pressed a tender kiss to his cheek, then shifted to tug the blankets up over them. "I've got you, Jason. It'll be all right now.”

Bruce pulled the blankets over them and Jason knew what that meant. He heaved a sigh and nuzzled against Bruce's neck. "I wasn't thinking," he said quietly. "It didn't even...occur to me..." He wouldn't have suggested Bruce tie him up at all if he'd have realized it would put a cold end to their fun. He should have considered how much of a _bad idea_ it was.

"It's all right," Bruce murmured, shuddering a little as Jason became freely affectionate. Bruce stroked through his hair and down his back again. "I should've known. It's my fault." He pressed a kiss to his hair, slid his hand up his back and pressed his thumb into the tight muscles of his neck and shoulder, rubbing the tension from them.

Jason didn't see how it could be Bruce's fault in any way. _Jason_ should have been the one to realize it would go wrong, _he_ was the one who went through that hell. But all he could think about was how much he wanted to be at Bruce's mercy so thoroughly. A part of him wanted to attempt to get Bruce back in the mood. The other part...

"Maybe I should go," he murmured.

Bruce froze, heart falling into his stomach, and he... he shouldn't hold too tight, he shouldn't force it, he needed to let Jason come back on his own but...

He wrapped his arms tight around him, tangled their legs. "Stay," he said lowly, gravelly. Desperate.

Bruce's reaction was more or less what Jason had expected, but something still twisted inside him at the way Bruce's grip tightened and the way he hooked their legs together. And part of him... _wanted_ to stay, wanted to remain here wrapped up in Bruce and fall asleep in his arms but...

"You know I can't..." he breathed, voice barely a whisper.

"You _can_ ," Bruce argued with a little more force. And then he let out a breath, cupped Jason's cheek and shifted so they could look at each other. He stared down at him, taking in his features, wanting to remember him like this, open and without any mask, relaxed in his arms. He leaned down and kissed him, just a gentle brush of lips. "Just tonight. Sleep, Jason. Here. With me." _Where I know you're safe._

Jason met his gaze, struggled to hold it, for Bruce's sake. He wanted to look away, couldn't bear to look Bruce in the eyes as he talked about leaving him, _again_. He couldn't stay, no matter how much Bruce wanted him to. This wasn't his home anymore, not the way Bruce thought it was, not the way Bruce wanted it to be.

"It won't go the way you want it to," he said. Even if he agreed to stay, he would find a way to sneak out before the sun rose, before Alfred came around to rouse Bruce from sleep and get him started on his day. He couldn't face Alfred. He couldn't face _Bruce_ in the morning, if he stayed. He could just imagine how Bruce would react, and it hurt to think about.

 

" _Why not._ " Bruce held him a little tighter. "What do you want from this, Jason? What do you want from _me?_ You have a place here, we _want_ you here. _Please--_ What can I do?”

"It's not the _same_ anymore, you have to realize that." How could he walk through here without the constant reminder of what things were like, how much he'd changed since he'd come back, how different things were now? When Bruce wasn't looking at him with desire, distracted by carnal wants, he looked at him like he'd failed him, like he would never stop trying to make it up to Jason, and Jason couldn't _stand_ that. That wasn't what he _wanted_. He wouldn't be able to go back to the bright-eyed kid Bruce took in and made Robin, not the way Bruce clearly wanted.

"None of us are the same. _We_ aren't the same." He slid his hand down Jason's bare back, settling for the moment at the base of it, thinking how he certainly wouldn't have let this -- Jason naked in his bed, sweat drying on their skin, traces of cum still sticky between them -- ever happen before. "But we adapt, Jason."

He cupped his face with one hand, leaned in to kiss him again, slow and light. "You can stay. Sleep right here. Come out with us again at night. We'll construct another identity for you so you can be here, be wherever you want in the light of day. You can spar with Dick, he would love that. Alfred can teach you his new recipes. There's proper medical supplies, the Batcomputer. There's -- there's _me_ , whenever you want me.”

Bruce was right, they _weren't_ the same. Jason had personally sought to it that they weren't. But no matter how tempting that offer was, and it _was_ , the thought of being _back_ , for good, to spend time with Dick again, to hang out with Alfred, it wouldn't last. It _couldn't_ last. Jason had no intentions of stopping what he was doing, and he knew Bruce didn't approve.

"And you're suddenly going to be fine with my approach on things?" he countered. "I won't stop, you can't change my mind on it.”

Bruce shut his eyes tight, a wave of helplessness washing over him. He knew where this would go. He held Jason close, let their foreheads rest together. He couldn't condone killing. He _couldn't_. It was the one thing... the one line he wouldn't cross.

"Stay here for a month," he tried, voice quiet and hoarse. "No killing. Then, after a month... we can have this discussion again.”

Jason closed his eyes as Bruce pulled him closer. He knew the struggle he was fighting through, the want to have Jason close, but not wanting him to kill like he was. But it wasn't something he felt he could promise Bruce, to stop like Bruce wanted him to. It wasn't that it was a slippery slope like Bruce seemed to think it was. He _could_ stop, but he was making a difference, thugs and criminals had something to actually _fear_ now, rather than an empty threat of going to Arkham and breaking free. Their lives were at stake now, and if Red Hood found them, they knew they were fucked.

"I can't promise you that. You don't see it the way I do, you don't see _them_ the way I do.”

"I _do_ , Jason," he whispered. "But I can't go down that road, you _know_ that." He stroked his face, his back. Down his strong, scarred arms and to his hand, holding it tight, terrified he was slipping right through his fingers _again._ "What else can I do?" _Don't leave me._

"I know, but I'm not asking you to _go_ down that road." He wasn't, he knew Bruce would never go down that path. He didn't want Bruce to, and Bruce didn't _have_ to go down that path, because Jason was doing it for him.

"You shouldn't do my dirty work," Bruce growled, holding his hand tighter. "I don't _want_ you do. There are other ways, Jason. You don't have to do this.”

Jason finally pulled away, just a little, not enough to break out of his hold. "You brought me into this life to help you. You needed a Robin, you needed my _help_. I'm still helping you, in a way no one else will, in a way you need but won't accept.”

"That's not fair to you." He pressed right back into his space, gently pressing him back against the mattress, curled over him to press his lips to the corner of his mouth. "You've already died for me, Jason. I should have never... should have never let any of this happen.”

Jason huffed as Bruce pushed him back into the mattress. "You shouldn't have taken me in off the streets, then," he growled. He decided against pointing out that he didn't technically die _for_ Bruce. He'd died because he tried to save his mother, who sold him out to the Joker.

"Maybe..." Bruce let his mouth settle atop Jason's just barely kissing him. He just couldn't find it in himself to regret it, taking in that boy who had the gall to steal the tires right off the batmobile, who was ready to fight, whose parents so utterly failed him. "I wanted to raise you up," he murmured, kissing up his cheek. "To help you become everything you could be, not sucked down by Gotham's gravity." He leaned back to look at him, eyes darting over his face, and wondered if he had succeeded, or just made it worse. "Should I have left you there, Jason?”

"You knew who I was when you found me. You knew _what_ I was." Once a street rat, always a street rat. "If you're asking if I regret it, no. I don't regret being Robin. I regret how it ended.”

"It's not over." He wondered what would've happened if Jason hadn't left to pursue his biological mother. Would he have finished pushing him away later, like he did Dick? Bruce was certain he would've failed him in some other way. They always had argued, more than even Dick when he was growing out of the uniform. Would Jason have quit, like Dick? What then?

He let out a breath, pressed his face to his neck, ghosting his lips over one of the marks he'd made earlier. "It's not over, Jason. You came back to me.”

"Well it's not like I could stay away, could I?" he said. Bruce had a way of drawing him in, without seemingly trying at all. "But I don't think I could ever be what you want. Even before I died, you had to struggle to keep me in check. I was already too old, been on the streets for too long, to be so obedient to your rules." There were many times he remembered Bruce yelling at him to stop, that he was going too far, so many times he'd almost killed, even back then.

"I want _you_." He whispered against his skin. "I know you... always compared yourself to Dick, maybe still do. But you're not the same. I don't _want_ you to be the same. You gave me what I needed, kept me on my toes, made me question everything. And I'm stronger for it, Jason. When you died, I..." his heart crawled into his throat, choking him, remembering that pain, that crushing weight of failure and despair and _grief._

He held him tighter. "Don't leave me again, Jason.”

Jason didn't say anything, but he wrapped his arms around Bruce. He was sure Bruce wasn't really aware of what he was asking. He could say that he wanted him, but when it came down to it, he would get angry with him over his choices, he would yell at him that he shouldn't be doing any of this, he would demand that Jason would stop, but Jason didn't intend to, and it would tear them apart. He could see it happening, but Bruce was too desperate to hold onto him to accept that.

Jason didn't answer, didn't agree, and even though he wrapped his arms around him, Bruce knew he wouldn't win this argument. Jason had made up his mind, and was tired of hearing Bruce beg for something different.

He settled them on their sides again, eyes shut and arms tight around Jason. He was so _pathetic_. Begging like this. Desperate to keep Jason like he had any right to. Bruce hated himself for it. Bruce hated that he wanted him, his Robin, as a lover. Hated that he couldn't _keep_ him. He hated that he had failed Jason, and was failing him right now. He hated that at the end of the day, he was just a pathetic, lonely old man in a never ending war of his own making. A war he dragged others into until they all suffered.

He couldn't have Jason. He _shouldn't_ have Jason.

He held on tight anyway.

Jason nuzzled against Bruce's neck, closing his eyes. It wouldn't be so bad to stay, and god did he _want_ to, but it would hurt too much when it went bad, when Bruce couldn't handle the way he did things anymore and snapped at him, when their differing opinions drove a wedge between them.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

Bruce shuddered, closed his eyes tight, stroked Jason's hair while the younger pressed a soft kiss to his neck, arms tightening around him. "I am too, Jason."

 

.x.


End file.
